


French Kiss

by Ice_Cat, supernatural9917



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Based on the film French Kiss, Benny isn't exactly on the right side of the law sometimes, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has a Fear of Flying, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, France (Country), Infidelity, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Police Officer Castiel (Supernatural), SPN Movie Big Bang 2019, Thief Benny Lafitte, Top Benny Lafitte
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 07:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19329598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ice_Cat/pseuds/Ice_Cat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernatural9917/pseuds/supernatural9917
Summary: When Dean's fiancé Nick goes to Paris for a business trip and ends up leaving him for a French goddesse named Ruby, Dean has to face his fear of flying to get his man back. On the plane he meets the charming half-Cajun, half-French Benny Lafitte, who helps Dean get through the flight but has ulterior motives of his own. Their paths cross again when Dean's bags get stolen in Paris, and Benny even promises to help Dean get his fiancé back. But the more time he spends with Benny, the more he wonders whether Nick is still what he wants.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's note:** Man oh man, have I had fun with this fic! I'm primarily a Destiel writer, but Denny is my second ship (Destiny is my OT3), and I just love writing Benny. French Kiss is one of my favourite rom-coms, and it immediately fell into place for me with Dean as Kate and Benny as Luc. I've made a few obvious changes from the original film, most of which don't require any explanation, but the main one is that I changed the French setting from the Provence/Côte d'Azur area to Burgundy and Lyon because Burgundy is my favourite place in the entire world and I wanted to set my fic there. You don't have to have seen the film to enjoy this fic, but I recommend watching it anyway because it's fantastic!
> 
> Thank you very much to my beta for this, [LisaferQueenofHell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisaferQueenOfHell); any remaining typos are mine. Also thanks to [Kaeru](https://c-kaeru.tumblr.com/), who very kindly corrected my French; again, any remaining mistakes are mine. I'd also like to thank the fabulous directors for running this bang, which has just been tremendous fun! I just need to think about what I'll do for next year!
> 
> Last but by no means least, I'd like to thank my amazing artist, [Bucky](https://angel-with-a-moonsword.tumblr.com/), who not only was just lovely to work with, but I'm sure you will agree did a FREAKING AMAZING job with all the glorious art pieces. I have been utterly spoiled! Go give him some love on the [art post](https://angel-with-a-moonsword.tumblr.com/post/185798361212/the-time-has-come-to-post-for-spnmoviebigbang-i)!
> 
>  
> 
> **Artist's note:**  
>  I'm gonna be honest with you: working with Super has been an amazing experience. She was super patient with me while I worked on the illustrations and took longer breaks in between, and I couldn't be more happy with all the positive feedback I got from her along the way.
> 
> I picked this story because in an event full of Destiel, I really wanted to draw something for a fic that isn't the most popular ship in the fandom, so seeing this one in summaries? My choice was obvious. I also wanted a challenge — Benny, for example, isn't a character that I draw lots of, and so getting him right at different angles was loads of fun (and some obvious frustration) for me!
> 
> I read the fic two times and had a LOT of ideas as to what I want to draw. Still, I knew that I won't be able to do more than three pieces, so I had to choose. And oh boi, was that hard to do. Eventually, I settled for two more complex illustrations and a drawing of a lovely concierge, and I'm very happy with the results I managed to get!
> 
> Now, don't just sit here, go read the fic!

__

_California definitely has its perks_ , Dean thinks as he drives north towards Half Moon Bay on the Pacific Coast Highway. The sun is shining, the air is fresh, and his Baby is rumbling away smooth as silk as she eats away the miles. The road is mostly empty, but he's not bothering to rush down it; this is a drive for the sake of driving, and he's enjoying the scenery with the wind blowing through the open window at forty-five miles an hour. He's not far past the turn-off for Lobitos when he spots a car on the shoulder up ahead and slows down substantially when he notices that it's a classic Mustang convertible, '65 vintage if he's not mistaken, absolutely cherry in both colour and condition.

Well, except for the fact that it's apparently broken down at the side of the road with its hood popped open and the very shapely ass of its driver sticking out of it as he bends over the engine. Dean can't resist doing a classic lowering of the sunglasses as he rolls past and checks the guy out, deciding to see if he can help. Pulling over just ahead of the other car, he saunters out of his '67 Impala, the squeaky door catching the attention of the Mustang guy.

'Hi there!' Dean calls out with a hand raised. 'Need a hand? I'm a mechanic.'

'That would be great, thanks,' Mustang guy says with obvious relief. 'I'm good with body work, but engines are just beyond me sometimes.' He extends his hand, which Dean takes. It's a firm shake, and yeah, the guy is pretty cute if Dean's being honest. 'Nick Munroe.'

'Dean Winchester. This little beauty yours, then?'

'That she is. Bought her for a song at an auction. She was pretty banged up, but I rebuilt her good as new and had a new engine put in,' Nick says proudly.

'Let me guess- she's called Sally?' Dean grins, and that draws a chuckle from Nick.

'I know it's a cliché, but if the shoe fits,' he shrugs.

Dean doesn't mind a good cliché. So after he gets the car running again, he asks Nick if he wants to go for coffee. After coffee, Nick does him one better and asks if he wants to go to dinner. They exchange Led Zeppelin trivia in the booth of a diner, and then blow jobs in the backseat of the Impala. It turns out Nick is close to finishing med school at Stanford; Dean's just a mechanic in Palo Alto, having moved there from Kansas when his brother Sam started at the same school, but Nick doesn't seem to think he's out of Dean's league at all. He gives Dean his number and kisses him goodnight like he's somebody special, and Dean watches the Mustang drive away with a feeling of excitement he hasn't had in a long time.

He calls the next day.


	2. Chapter 1

_Two years later_

'Welcome to Delta Airlines Flight 8599 from San Francisco to Paris. Flight time today will be around eleven hours.' Dean closes his eyes and grips the armrests so tightly his fingers turn white. He starts humming Master of Puppets, trying to ignore the sounds of the plane preparing to take off. 'Dean,' the voice says over the intercom, 'Dean, are you breathing?'

'Yeah, I'm fucking breathing,' he growls back.

'Good. Breathe nice and deeply, and then picture your happy place. Tell me about your happy place, Dean,' the voice continues calmly.

'I'm drivin' down the Pacific Coast Highway in my Baby, wind in my hair, Zep cranked up, and my man in the seat next to me,' Dean recites through gritted teeth.

'Good. Relax into that image.' The engines get louder and the plane begins to speed up. The nose tilts up as it begins to take off, and Dean's eyes fly open.

'Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Fuck this shit!' He fumbles his seatbelt open and jumps out of the seat towards the emergency door. 'Let me out!' he bangs against it. 'Get me off this fucking death trap!'

The nice lady from Face Your Fear lets him out of the simulator and gives him his money back very apologetically.

When he gets back home, Nick isn't happy. 'Come on, Dean, this is ridiculous! Look, I'll just prescribe you some Valium, it'll be fine!'

'I don't wanna take that shit!' Dean shouts. 'And I don't want to go to stupid Paris anyway. It's full of French people. They talk weird and they eat cheese that hasn't even been pasteurised. Who does that? Crazy people, that's who!'

'Paris is the city of lights, the city of love!' Nick comes around Dean's back and wraps him in his arms. 'Don't you want to go to the capital of romance with your future husband?' He plants gentle kisses down Dean's neck. 'Don't you want to see the Eiffel Tower?'

'The one in Vegas is good enough for me,' Dean quips. 'Anyway, what would I do all day while you do your doctor conference thing? Bum around Paris getting treated like dirt for being American? No thanks.'

Nick sighs but stops arguing. They leave their apartment, a conversion above the garage that houses the Mustang and the Impala and cross the driveway to the house where Nick's parents and sister Nancy live. They had made the apartment for Nick so he could live at home in Palo Alto while attending Stanford to save money, and Dean had moved in after they'd been dating for a year. Nick proposed nine months after that, and they still live in the apartment so they can save up for a house in the wildly overheated northern California market. The proximity means they have dinner at the main house most nights, which is just one reason why Dean is looking forward to getting hitched and moving to their own place; not that he doesn't like his future in-laws, but Nick's mother never lets anyone else cook, and she isn't exactly the world's greatest chef.

They're just digging in to a slightly overdone meatloaf when Nick's dad says, 'Oh, Dean, I almost forgot- the Carrigans have put their house on the market.'

Dean drops his fork. 'Seriously? When?'

'Just today, I saw Madge in the supermarket. The sign hasn't gone up yet, but it's already online. She said to feel free to stop by anytime if you want to have a look.'

'That's awesome, thanks, Dad,' Dean says gratefully. Because yeah, Mr and Mrs Munroe had insisted that Dean start calling them Mom and Dad as soon as they'd been told about the engagement. Most of the time it feels weird, but this is one time he's glad to do it. The Carrigan house is perfect, exactly what he wants in a house, and he talks Nick into going over to have a look right after dinner.

The Carrigans are a nice old couple, but they're ready to downsize and move closer to their grandchildren. Dean's loved the place ever since he went to their Christmas open house last year, and now he walks around the rooms picturing what he'd do with all of them. Nick seems oddly discomfited, but Dean figures that not everybody likes walking through someone's current home and imagining taking it all away to make it your own. He's still oddly quiet when they get back to the car.

'Well, what do you think?' Dean asks eagerly as they look at it again from their seats. 'Isn't it great?'

'Yeah, of course,' Nick says with significantly less enthusiasm, 'but there's no way we can afford that.'

'Actually,' Dean says with a wide grin, 'ever since I got my first paper route back in Kansas, I've been saving up a bit of money every week. When I was younger, it was supposed to be for Sam's college fund, but then the kid got so many scholarships I didn't need to spend a dime. Still, I kept on saving up, and now… well, I've got a nice little nest egg for a deposit.'

Nick raises his eyebrows. 'How many eggs?'

'66,372 eggs,' Dean says proudly.

'Holy shit! Why didn't you tell me this before?'

'I wanted it to be a surprise.'

'It's a surprise,' Nick agrees, still stunned. He turns his head back to look at the house, where they can see the Carrigans sitting down to dinner through the large bay window. 'I'm seeing my entire life flash before my eyes, and we don't even have kids yet,' he mutters.

'Hey, you OK?' Dean asks, concern furrowing his brow.

'What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine.' He takes Dean's hands and brings their foreheads together. 'Dean, come to Paris with me. Please.'

**********

Dean drives away from the airport with a sigh. Nick had been so disappointed, but there was no way he was getting on a flying metal tube of death. Anyway, the conference is only a week long, and they can Skype every day. And he really meant what he said about French people. They suck.

Nick arrives the next day and calls Dean right at the time they set up. He looks jetlagged but excited to be in Paris. 'Hey babe, how was your flight?'

'Would have been better with you next to me,' Nick pouts. 'But hey, check out the view from my hotel room!' He takes his phone to the window and shows Dean a stunning view over ye olde rooftops to the Eiffel Tower.

'Wow, that looks awesome,' Dean admits, and for the first time feels a bit of a pang about missing out.

'I really miss you, babe,' Nick says sadly.

'Me too, sweetheart. What are you doing tonight?'

'There's a drinks reception to kick off the conference in the hotel bar. I'm just about to head down.'

'Have fun. Oh, I talked to the real estate agent about the house, she said we should put in an offer soon if we want to get it.'

There's a knock on Nick's door. 'That's my co-workers here to get me. Can we talk about it tomorrow?'

'Yeah, of course. Love you.'

'Love you! Bye!'

Dean hangs up, disappointed that they could only speak so briefly, but he knows networking is kind of the main point of these conference things. They'll talk about the house tomorrow.

Except they don't. This time Nick calls from a nightclub where the conference organisers had taken everybody, and neither of them can hear a thing, so he tells Dean he'll call the next day before abruptly hanging up. The next call is slightly longer, but he still puts off talking about the house, and now Dean is getting kind of pissed off about it. When Nick calls on the fourth night, an hour later than planned, Dean is pretty grumpy and ready for a fight.

His heart sinks when Nick's face appears on the screen. His tie is askew, his hair is dishevelled, and he looks like he's been crying. Dean immediately shifts into protector mode. 'Babe? What happened, what's wrong?'

'Dean… oh god, Dean.'

'I'm here, sweetheart, I'm here. What's wrong?'

'Dean… I'm just… I'm so _happy_ , you know, just so happy. And so… fucked up. I fucked up, Dean.'

'What the hell are you talking about, Nick?'

'I fucked up, but it's destiny, Dean. Definitely destiny.'

'What's destiny?'

'I met this woman, this apparition, this _goddesse_.'

Deans sinks down to the floor as his legs give out under him. 'Goddesse?'

'It's French for goddess. She's French, and she's a goddess, and… I'm in love.'

'You're supposed to be in love with me, asshole!' Dean yells in reply.

'I know, it's so fucked up, but this is different. She's just… she's beautiful, and perfect, and she makes me feel so brave, like I can do anything. I'm sorry, Dean.'

'What the fuck are you talking about, you dick?' Dean screams. 'Just come home, we'll work this out.'

'I'm not coming back, Dean. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.' He hangs up and screen goes black. Dean just stares at the screen until his phone dies.

**********

'Welcome to Delta Airlines Flight 8599 from San Francisco to Paris. We ask that you take your seats as quickly as possible and leave the aisles free as soon as you've put away your hand luggage to ensure an on-time departure,' says the voice over the intercom, and Dean starts hyperventilating in his window seat, squeezing his eyes shut.

'I hate Paris in the springtime,' he starts singing to himself. 'I hate Paris in the fall, oh why, oh why do I hate Paris? Because my love is there... with his _slut_ girlfriend.'

While his eyes are closed, he feels someone sit down in the middle seat, and he opens them to see a burly, bearded man dressed more like he expected to be on a boat than a plane. He smiles at Dean with a tip of his cap and proceeds to hog their shared armrest without a care in the world. Dean glares daggers at him, but he's already closed his eyes and slipped his cap over them as if settling in for a nap.

It seems this guy was the last one to be seated, because now the plane is starting to pull back from the gate, and the flight attendants are doing their safety demonstration. Dean pulls his seatbelt tight and reads through the safety card for the tenth time, frantically trying to figure out where his nearest exit is and how he's going to get past this five-foot-wide dude sitting between him and survival.

'You all right there, chief?' the guy drawls, and Dean is so worked up he can barely even appreciate the sexiness of his accent. And that's saying something, because Dean has a _thing_ for accents.

'Of course I'm not OK,' he hisses back. 'I'm on a flying metal death trap that's probably going to end my life in a giant fireball.'

'Well, if it's any consolation,' drawl guy says (definitely southern, Dean thinks, but there's something else about it), 'you probably won't feel a thing if that happens.'

'It isn't a consolation,' Dean snaps, glaring into what really are some quite attractive and gentle blue eyes.

'I'm guessin' you don't travel much.'

'I travel plenty. I just do it as nature intended: in a car.'

'Sure, sure. I know your type,' drawl guy smirks.

'What type is that?'

'I bet you never been out of the country, don't eat anything too spicy, drive some kind of giant penis extension of a car… how'm I doin' so far?' Dean grumbles, but he can't exactly deny any of the statements outright. 'Thought so.'

'Whatever, dude. You don't know me. What the hell?'

The man looks him up and down. 'You're wearin' a pink polo shirt, brother.'

Dean looks down a bit sheepishly. He doesn't like the hideous thing either, but it's Nick's favourite. 'I'm not your brother, and my fiancé bought me this shirt.'

'Yeah, I bet she's got you right under her thumb, don't she?'

Well, at least Dean can surprise him in _that_. ' _He_ , actually,' he protests, crossing his arms petulantly.

The guy tilts his cap back and looks at Dean with a mixture of surprise and frank appraisal. 'Ya don't say? And _he_ let your pretty little ass get on this big bad plane all by your lonesome?'

'Look, pal, I don't know who you think you are, but you know jack shit about me or my fiancé. I don't have to ask his permission to do anything, I'm my own person. I'm on this plane because I'm meeting him in Paris, and I'm wearing this shirt because he thinks I look fucking hot in it, which I do, by the way. Anyway, where do _you_ get off criticising my fashion sense? You look like you just walked off a box of supermarket brand fish sticks, Captain Dickbag.'

'Hey, check out that view,' Captain Dickbag replies, pointing out the window. To Dean's surprise, the plane is already a few thousand feet off the ground, having apparently taken off and levelled out while they were arguing. It makes him wonder if that had been the point. 'I'm Benny by the way,' the guy says in a friendlier tone, and Dean shakes his extended hand dumbfoundedly. 'Sorry about all that, but I just figured you're the kind of guy who'd rather be angry than afraid. I didn't mean anything by it.'

Dean isn't sure how to feel about the fact that this complete stranger read him so easily, figuring out such a fundamental truth about him that even Nick didn't seem to get. 'Thanks, man.'

'No problem. And for the record- you _do_ look hot in that shirt.' Benny winks and stands up to go use the lavatory, leaving Dean stunned. When he returns a few minutes later, he has two glasses of ice and several miniature bottles of Jack Daniels. He waggles a couple in Dean's direction as an offering.

'Fuck yes. Please,' Dean says gratefully, and pulls out his tray. Benny empties two bottles into each of the glasses, passing one to Dean and clinking his own against it before taking a large gulp.

'So, you gonna tell me your name, or you want me to guess?' Benny asks with a cheeky smile.

'Oh, uh, I'm Dean. Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you.' He clinks their glasses again.

'Well, Dean Winchester, Captain Benjamin Dickbag at your service.' He winks again, and Dean can't help but laugh heartily at that. 'But my friends know me as Benny Lafitte.'

'Sorry about the supermarket fish sticks comment, I was just being petty. It's definitely brand name fish sticks,' Dean teases back, and finds Benny's laugh almost as charming as his accent. 'So where do you hail from, Benny? That's not a California accent.'

'It is not. Born and raised in Louisiana. Daddy's a Cajun, Mama's actual proper French. She inherited the family vineyard when I was a teenager, they moved over with my older brother and I stayed to finish high school. Ended up kickin' around various parts of the states since then. How about you?'

'Kansas, originally. My little brother Sam went to Stanford, and it's just the two of us, so I went with him.'

'And your man?'

'Met Nick a couple of years ago, he's from Cali. His car had broken down on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway, and I got it running again.'

'Well ain't that romantic?' Benny grins. 'When's the big day, then?'

Dean frowns and swallows down a large amount of Jack. 'It's complicated.'

'Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?'

'Just a blip. It's nothing. Once he sees me, it'll be fine.'  He drains his glass and slams it down on the tray. Benny kindly fills it with another couple of bottles.

'He must be pretty special if you're going to all this effort to see him,' Benny says carefully.

'He is. He's a doctor, training to be a surgeon. I'm just a mechanic.'

'Huh,' Benny says, looking Dean up and down. 'I would've guessed underwear model.'

Dean bites back a smile and crosses his arms again. 'Don't objectify me.'

Benny holds his hands up in surrender. 'OK, so why'd McDreamy come to Paris without you?'

Dean fidgets in his seat. 'I was supposed to come, but I didn't want to fly.'

'And now?'

'None of your business, OK? Thanks for the booze, but I'm gonna get some sleep now.' He finishes the whiskey in one long swallow and plops the glass on Benny's tray so he can fold away his own.

'They're gonna serve dinner soon, don't you wanna eat? I won't stick my nose in your business anymore, cross my heart,' Benny says, and Dean grudgingly keeps his tray out. He is kinda hungry.

The meal eventually arrives, and it's pretty terrible. He and Benny continue to banter, and true to his word, Benny doesn't ask any other awkward questions about Nick. After the food is cleared away, Benny pulls some more liquor out of his jacket's voluminous pockets, and one of them decides it's a great idea to play some kind of drinking game. They somehow end up talking about how they each lost their virginity.

'Oh god,' Dean laughs, 'I was sixteen. Her name was Cassie. Homecoming dance, her friends had an after-party in their huge house and their parents weren't home. We snuck into a bedroom, and I wasted about three condoms before I finally got one on right. Lasted about three minutes, and she was _not_ impressed. But then I went down her, and that _did_ impress her, so we went out for long enough that I worked my way up to lasting a good fifteen minutes.'

'Not bad, not bad,' Benny admits. 'I was… ouf, must have been thirteen.'

'Thirteen?' Dean exclaims.

'No, you're right, I was twelve,' Benny muses. 'We were visiting my grandparents for the summer in Burgundy, and they took us to Dijon for the weekend. I snuck out the first night and hired a _putain_ to do the deed.'

Dean looks confused. 'You paid money to fuck some weird Canadian food?'

Benny roars with laughter. 'That's poutine, dumbass. _Putain_ is a hooker. She wasn't too pretty, but she had this amazing mouth. Mm mmm. I couldn't afford to kiss her, though, just the, you know,' he gestures with his hands.

'That's some _Pretty Woman_ sounding shit right there,' Dean chuckles. 'Do they really not kiss?'

'Oh, they do. It just costs a lot more. So the next day I stole fifty francs from my grandad and went back to kiss her for half an hour. Completely worth the hiding I got when they realised I'd taken the cash. I didn't tell 'em what I really spent it on.'

Dean laughs and smacks Benny's chest jovially, but something feels weird, and Benny practically jumps up. 'Hey, whoa buddy, what was that?'

'Nothin', chief. I, uh, I gotta go hit the can.' He runs off, leaving Dean thinking he's a pretty weird dude.

**********

Benny locks the lavatory door behind him and reaches his hand into his coat for the burlap-wrapped parcel hidden in the inner pocket. He carefully unwraps it to check on the delicate young grapevine inside. Thankfully, Dean's roughness doesn't seem to have affected it. He fills the sink and soaks the cloth-wrapped rootball in the sink. While it sits there getting some air, he unwraps the other item in the parcel, this one kept safely dry in a Ziploc bag. He shakes his head at the thought that a watch could be worth so much, but it _is_ made by Cartier and covered in diamonds. Somebody knocks on the door, so he calls out that he'll be just a minute and hastily wraps everything back up again, uses the facilities while he's there, and returns to his seat to find that Dean has managed to doze off after all the booze.

An idea occurs to him. He always gets stopped by customs, maybe because of his build, maybe because of his beard, or maybe because of those theft charges on his record on both sides of the Atlantic; hell, if he didn't have two passports, it's unlikely he'd even be allowed into whichever country he was trying to get into. But Dean… well, Dean was a clean-cut, all-American boy who really could be an underwear model, and he was wearing a pink polo shirt, for crying out loud. No way was customs going to stop him. Benny could just slip his little parcel into Dean's bag and get it back on the other side, maybe offer Dean a ride to his hotel, maybe go for a drink, maybe a little something else- let it never be said that Benny Lafitte is the type to pass up an opportunity to get laid.

Mind made up, Benny opens the overhead compartment and finds Dean's bag, a small green duffel containing some clothes and toiletries, and puts the little burlap package inside before taking his seat again. There's nothing to do until morning, so he pulls his cap over his eyes, crosses his arms, and goes to sleep.

**********

Dean wakes up when breakfast service starts, a bit hungover but not the worst he's ever had. He greets Benny with a nod and slurps the terrible coffee the flight attendant serves him. Breakfast is just as disgusting as dinner was, but it's food, and Dean's had worse of that as well.

'So what's your plan when you get to Paris?' Benny asks conversationally.

'Nick's staying at the George V,' Dean replies, saying the letter V instead of the French word for five, 'so I guess I'll go there.'

'It's George Cinq, like the Roman numeral five,' Benny corrects him with an impeccable accent.

'George Sank?' Dean repeats.

Benny chuckles. 'Close enough. You want a ride? It's not out of my way.'

'Thanks, man, that would be cool.'

'No problem, brother. I should probably warn you, though, I pretty much always get stopped by customs, so you may need to wait a little bit for me.'

'Why's that?'

'Guess I look suspicious,' Benny jokes. 'They're not so fond of beards. Anyway, it shouldn't take too long, they usually just look through my bag a bit, but I should just be ten minutes behind ya.'

Dean nods in agreement, and soon after, the plane lands. They both get through passport control fine, but as predicted, Benny gets stopped at customs. Dean stands in the arrivals area for a while, just people watching, and waves when he sees Benny come out. Then a dark-haired guy in a trenchcoat approaches Benny, and Dean sees his face fall. Trenchcoat guy gives Benny a hug, then he also starts looking through his bags. Just as Dean thinks Benny is going to head his way, trenchcoat guy hands Benny his bag, puts his arm around him, and starts leading him out of the airport.

Dean isn't sure what the hell is going on, but it looks like he's just lost his ride, so gets some money out of the nearest ATM (holy shit, it looks like Monopoly money, what the hell?) and waves down a taxi to take him to the George V. At least he knows how to say it now. It's a shame he didn't get to say goodbye to Benny, he seemed like a good dude, but the important thing is to get to Nick.

**********

Benny is just through customs and about to walk towards Dean when he hears, 'Benjamin Lafitte!' in a deep, gravelly voice. He looks up and sees none other than Castiel Novak heading his way with what passes for a broad grin on Castiel's stoic face.

'Cas,' he says weakly, trying to keep one eye on Dean. 'What're you doing here?'

'I've been seconded to the Interpol headquarters in Lyon for a year. I'm helping out with a cross-border larceny and identity theft racket,' Castiel replies, wrapping Benny in a hug. 'What brings you to the homeland?'

'Oh, just visiting the folks.'

'That's nice. Let's see your bag.'

'What?'

'Your bag. Let me have a look.'

Benny frowns. 'Customs already went through it, there's nothing sketchy in it,' he insists, but hands the bag over anyway because Castiel Novak doesn't take no for an answer.

'Customs doesn't know you like I do,' Castiel says dryly. He takes a few minutes to search the bag, during which time Dean seems to be growing impatient and confused, and Benny tries to shoot him an apologetic look. Castiel packs everything back up and hands Benny the bag. 'Looks clean. Come on, I'll give you a ride into town.'

'Oh, that's all right, I can get there on my own,' Benny replies, but Castiel puts his arm around his shoulder and starts guiding him out the door. It's the last thing Benny wants, but he also isn't willing to put Dean on Castiel's radar, so he lets himself be guided to Castiel's waiting car. It's no big deal; he knows where Dean will be, so as soon as he can shake the Interpol detective, he'll head over the George V, find Dean, get his vine, and carry on towards Burgundy as planned.

'I can't believe I ran into you my first hour in the country,' Castiel chuckles once they're in the backseat of the chauffeur-driven Mercedes Interpol had sent for him. 'Were we on the same flight and I just didn't see you?'

'I doubt it, I was coming from San Fran,' Benny answers.

'That's a long flight. I came from New Orleans via JFK. I guess a lot of the trans-Atlantic flights land around the same time. So what have you been up to since New Orleans?'

'Little bit of this, little bit of that,' Benny says noncommittally. 'You know how it is.'

'Keeping on the straight and narrow?' Castiel asks with a squint and tilt of his head.

'Always, chief,' Benny assures him. 'Good as gold.'

'I'm happy to hear it. You're a good man, Benny, I want to see you succeed,' Castiel says sincerely.

'Why do you care so much?'

'You saved my life. You could have left me to have my throat cut by that gang, but you helped me get away. I'll never forget it.'

Benny rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Sure, he'd saved Castiel- fencing stolen shit was one thing, but killing a guy was a whole other one. He'd turned out to be a cop, and when the whole operation had gone down, Castiel's testimony had kept Benny out of prison. As far as he's concerned, the slate is clean.

'Look, man, you got me out of trouble, we're square.'

Castiel pats Benny on the shoulder. 'Like I said, you're a good man. So where can I drop you off?' Benny gives him an address, a cheap hotel he knows that's less than fifteen minutes away from the George V. Castiel embraces him like a brother before passing him his card and telling him to get in touch if he needs anything. Benny can't help but smile; Cas is a weird, dorky little guy, but he's a good 'un, and he's glad to have him on his side.

Once he's checked in to the hotel for one night- he hopes to have the vine and the watch back by the end of the afternoon and be off to Burgundy in the morning- he makes his way to the George V and hopes Dean hasn't gone digging through his bag just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small note on the French: The film _French Kiss_ was made and set in the mid-1990s, and Luc (the Benny character) uses the word _putain_ to mean a prostitute. As it tends to do, language shifts over time, and nowadays in France, the word putain is a stronger swear and isn't really used for prostitute or hooker anymore. It was a conscious choice on my part to keep it in that context because a) Benny hasn't lived full-time in France and may thus be a little out of touch with current slang, and b) if you think I was going to pass up the opportunity to make that poutine joke, you're crazy.


	3. Chapter 2

Dean hates Paris. First Benny ditches him for some weirdo in a trenchcoat, so he has to get a cab with some snooty French dude who played weird accordion music way too loud. Then he gets dropped off at the stupid George V, where the doorman looks at him like he's dogshit on the bottom of the guy's shiny shoes, and when he tried the courtesy phone to call Nick, it came up as 'do not disturb' for some reason. Now the asshole concierge is looking down his pointy nose at him, which is pretty impressive since the dude- who's name is apparently _Balthazar_ , for fuck's sake- is at least a couple of inches shorter than he is. Dean puts on his most charming smile, the one that dropped the panties of a number of ladies and almost as many dudes, and leans on the counter.

'Hi there. Do you speak English?'

'Of course, sir. This is the George V, not some backpacker's hovel,' Balthazar sneers.

'Ov-el,' Dean repeats with the strong French accent. 'Right. Uh, look, I'm looking for Nick Munroe, can you please tell me his room number?' Balthazar raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow, and Dean adds, 'He's expecting me.'

'I'm afraid, non.'

'Non?'

'Perhaps monsieur could try the courtesy phone.'

'Monsieur has tried the courtesy phone,' Dean says with forced sweetness. 'Do not disturb.'

'How unfortunate.'

'Look, man, I just spent way too long on a goddamn flying metal tube of death, I'm tired, I'm freakin' hungry, and I just want to see my fiancé. Can you please just tell me where I can find him?' Dean slips him a couple of twenty Euro notes to sweeten the pot, and Balthazar takes them and puts them in his pocket.

'Monsieur, it is my duty as concierge to safeguard the privacy of our guests. And if our guests need safeguarding from their own fiancés, well, after all, unlike some countries, France is not a nation of puritanical hypocrites.'

Dean's jaw drops. 'Dude! I just gave you forty Euros!'

'And I accepted it. Thank you. Will there be anything else?' Dean stares at him, exhausted and shell-shocked, but no words come out. 'In that case, good day to you, monsieur.' Balthazar gives a sharp little bow of his head and turns away to assist the next person at the desk. Dean drags himself and his duffel bag and small suitcase to a fancy looking sofa and collapses on it, dropping his head into his hands. He had assumed that once he got to the hotel, everything would work out, but now he's at a loss of what to do.

'You're American, yes?' comes a voice from next to him, and he startles a bit at the unexpected interruption. Sitting next to him is a curvaceous young woman with light brown hair, green eyes, and a natural pout that would have told him she's French even if her accent hadn't given her away. 'I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you,' she continues, 'but I saw you sitting here, looking so sad. I thought to myself that it isn't right for such a handsome man to look so sad.'

Dean smiles despite himself. 'Thanks, sweetheart, but unless you've got an hour to spare…'

'Always.' She puts a comforting hand on his arm. 'Let me help you forget your sadness. And remember that you are in Paris, city of love!' Her fingers trail along his arms and she smiles seductively. 'I just love love. Don't you?'

'Uh, sure, lady, whatever. Look, I'm here to meet my fiancé, so find another-' Dean cuts off as he and the flirty woman both catch sight of a shapely pair of legs in a very short dress coming down in the glass-walled elevator. The woman they belong to is practically wrapped around a man in a dapper suit. His head is buried against her neck, causing a laugh to light up her beautiful face. Dean gives a low whistle, and the woman snorts next to him. Then the man brings his head up, and Dean sees his face. It's Nick.

Dean faints like some kind of freakin' girl.

When he comes to, he's back on the sofa with Benny's arm around him, a big hand patting his cheek. 'Hey there, chief. Welcome back to the land of the living.'

'Benny? What are you doing here?'

'I felt bad about ditching you at the airport, ran into an old friend who insisted on giving me a ride. I wanted to see how you were doin'. Good thing I did. What happened?'

'I saw Nick.' Dean's face must show his despair, because Benny gives his shoulder a squeeze.

'Not the happy reunion you were hopin' for?' he asks gently.

'He was with _her_ ,' Dean spits out.

'Her?'

'The _goddesse_ he dumped me for. I saw them in the elevator, and next thing I know, you're here.'

'Ah. I take it that's what you meant by complicated. Sorry, Dean.'

'I don't want your fucking pity,' Dean snaps, brushing Benny off and standing up. 'I just want to get a room somewhere, take a shower, and- where are my bags?' He looks around frantically, and Benny jumps up looking spooked.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, where the fuck are my bags? They were right here! Crap. That bitch.'

'What bitch?'

'The bitch who was flirting with me when I saw Nick. She must have taken my bags.'

Benny's eyes widen. 'Was she about yea high, big green eyes, killer body?'

'Yeah, did you see her?'

'Passed her on my way in. Dammit! That's Bela, and she's definitely got your shit.' Benny starts pacing, worrying his lip and wringing his hands.

'You know her?'

'Unfortunately. She's a thief, mostly pickpocketing and honeypot kinda stuff, but she'll take any opportunity that presents itself. Come on, I'll get a… _my_ car, and we'll go find your bags. Just wait here, and I'll be right back.' Benny starts walking away but Dean grabs his arm to stop him.

'Hang on. Shouldn't we call the cops or something?'

'By the time they get here, who knows where your stuff will be? I know where she lives, we can get to her faster. Just give me five minutes.' He runs out the door, leaving Dean flopped on the sofa again. A couple of minutes later, Dean hears the honking of a horn outside the door and finds Benny inside an old Citroen. He climbs into the passenger seat and looks at Benny sceptically.

'This is your car?'

'You sound surprised,' Benny replies as he pulls wildly into traffic.

'I'm just surprised you had to hotwire your own car,' Dean says dryly, indicating the wires hanging under the steering wheel.

'It's my car for now,' Benny shrugs. 'I'll return it.'

'Whatever, dude. Why are you helping me?'

'I like you. You deserve better than seeing your fiancé with some _salope_ , and then getting your bags stolen.'

'Thanks, man.' Dean grips the door handle as Benny weaves madly through the traffic, honking his horn and giving the finger to every driver who dares to get in his way by following the rules of the road.

'So I gotta ask,' Benny says once they reach a quieter street, 'what was your plan when you saw Nick, anyway? I mean, he comes to Paris, meets this _goddesse_ , breaks your heart, humiliates you, and then you come here so he can do it again to your face?'

'Shut up. I'm just here to get my man back.'

Benny side-eyes him. 'How were you gonna do that?'

'Remind him of our life together. It's a great life, perfect, actually.'

'Evidently.'

'We were happy.'

Benny snorts. 'When someone says they're happy, my ass begins to twitch.'

'Whatever, dude. I wouldn't expect you to understand. I just need to see him, remind him how hot I am, maybe give him a blow job, boom, the witch's spell is broken, and he comes home with me.'

'Great plan.'

'Hey, you've never had one of my blow jobs,' Dean says smugly. Benny just shakes his head and sharply pulls the car over.

'We're here. Just follow my lead.' They go charging up the stairs, and Benny doesn't even bother knocking. 'Bela!' he shouts, and the woman from the hotel is there looking startled.

«Benny! Qu'est-ce que tu fais ici?»

('Benny! What are you doing here?')

«Tu as rencontré mon ami, Dean?»

('You met my friend, Dean?')

'Ah oui, hello,' she says to Dean.

«Et tu lui as volé ses bagages?»

('You stole his bags?')

«Bien sûr,» she shrugs.

('Of course.')

Benny stares at her. «Et donc?»

('And?')

«Y'a plus rien.»

('It's gone.')

Benny's face goes white. «Rien du tout?»

('All of it?')

'Hey, what's she saying?' Dean interjects.

'Um, your stuff's gone.'

'What the fuck do you mean, it's gone?' Dean screams.

«J'ai les sacs dans la chambre,» Bela offers, waving towards the bedroom.

('I have the bags in the bedroom.')

Benny rushes in there, bringing out Dean's duffle bag and suitcase. He gives Dean the empty case and digs around the duffel bag, tossing out the Vonnegut book, small bag of toiletries and bottle of lube that were left in it.

'Dude, can you not?' Dean shouts, picking up his possessions and snatching the duffel from Benny's hand.

«Où est le reste?» Benny demands, grabbing Bela by the shoulders and giving her a shake.

('Where's the rest?')

'Ask her where the fuck my clothes are!'

«Les vêtements?»

('The clothes?')

«Je les ai donnés à Crowley.»

('I gave them to Crowley.')

«Crowley?» Benny repeats. «Vous deux…» Bela shrugs, and Benny shudders.

('You two…')

'Dude, what happened to my clothes?'

'Uh, she threw them away.'

'What about my passport and shit?'

'Long gone, brother. First thing to go,' Benny says as he starts to tear the flat apart, apparently looking for something. He picks up a wad of cash, the proceeds of the passport sale no doubt, and pockets it. Bela tries to protest, but he shoots her a murderous glare and she clams up.

'Oh man! Fuck!' Dean curses. 'Son of a bitch!'

«Tout est parti?» Benny asks Bela again, and she points to the windowsill.

('Everything's gone?')

«Sauf ça.» There it is, the burlap partly unwrapped, leaning against the window. He grabs it gently and sighs with relief.

('Except that.')

'You son of a bitch,' Dean says angrily. 'You hid a plant in my bag.'

'It's not just a plant,' Benny protests, 'it's a vine.'

'That's why you're helping me. You don't give a shit about me.'

'Look, I'm sorry you lost all your stuff,' Benny replies, 'but it wasn't me who stole it.' He barges past Dean and back out into the hallway with a hat tip to Bela.

'What if I'd gotten stopped at customs? Did you ever think of that?' Dean yells, following him out.

'Don't be ridiculous. People like you they don't stop. Why do you think I choose you? Look at you. So handsome and wholesome with your perfect teeth and your pink polo shirt.' Dean growls and moves to snatch the plant away, but Benny fends him off. 'Please, don't ever, ever touch my vine. You don't understand. This is my future. With this vine, I'm going to make a great vineyard.'              

'Donnez-moi un break,' Dean snarks. 'You can't make a vineyard out of one vine.'

'No, not one vine. I take this little American vine, mix it with some prized French stock, then take it back to California and make something new.'

Dean rolls his eyes as they go back out onto the street. 'I don't care. Why am I listening to you? It's bullshit. Everything with you is bullshit.'

'Fine, whatever, Dean. You just go back home to your perfect little life in California, find another perfect little man. Just don't let him out of your sight for too long,' Benny sneers.

'How the fuck am I supposed to do that, asshole?' Dean shouts at him. 'I don't have money, I don't have a passport, I'm completely fucked.'

'You can get a new passport at the embassy,' Benny says more sympathetically, handing Dean the wad of cash he took from Bela's, 'and here, take this.'

'I don't want your fucking pity money,' Dean snaps.

'Nah, brother, it's your money, it's what she got for selling your shit.' He tries to push the money into Dean's hand, but Dean throws it on the ground.

'I said I don't want your fucking money. Now fuck off, don't follow me.'

'Fine, bye then,' Benny says, holding his hands up and backing away. Dean rounds the corner while Benny goes the other way, but good sense gets the better of him. Making sure Benny is out of sight, he sneaks back around the corner to pick up the abandoned Euros. No point letting pride make him go hungry.

**********

Benny doesn't get far before he realises that the watch isn't with the vine. He storms back up to Bela's, demanding that she give it to him, but she claims ignorance.

«Quelle montre? Il n'y avait pas de montre!» she insists, and a thorough search seems to confirm that it's the truth.

('What watch? There wasn't a watch!')

The damn thing must have fallen out in Dean's duffel bag, which is pretty old and beat-up- it must have a tear in the lining or something where the watch could have slipped in unnoticed. Benny swears, realising he'll have to find Dean again if his plan is going to have any chance of success.

Luckily, he finds him in the first place he looks, camped out as close to the front of the American embassy as the threatening guards will allow. Dean scowls at him. 'What the fuck do you want?'

Benny puts his hands up in surrender. 'I'm here to make amends, chief. I felt pretty guilty for what happened, and I wanna make it up to ya.'

'Right. How the hell you gonna do that?' Dean snaps, but most of the heat is gone from his voice.

'Well, first off, I can give you a place to sleep tonight. It ain't much, but it's better than the sidewalk of Avenue Gabriel. Second, I'm gonna help you get your man back.'

Dean looks at him like he's grown a second head. 'OK, I get the first part, but why would you do the second thing?'

Benny shrugs. 'You did me a big favour without even knowing it. Least I can do is pay you back by helping you get what you want.'

'And you're, what, some kind of love guru?' Dean asks sceptically.

Benny takes a step closer and grins. 'Let's just say I ain't ever had much trouble gettin' romance to go the way the way I want.'

Dean rolls his eyes but stands up and grabs his bags anyway. 'Whatever, Cassanova. Lead the way.'

Benny takes him to the run-down but at least not rat-infested hotel he usually uses in Paris, discussing strategy on the way. 'So first thing tomorrow, we get your passport stuff sorted out, then get you some new clothes before we go back to the George V. I'll need to get a good look at his girl so I can decide on the strategy.' He keeps talking, but Dean just grunts or gives one-word answers, so eventually conversation peters out, and they pull up to the hotel in silence.

When Benny opens the door to his room, Dean's eyebrows shoot up. It's tiny and a little bit squalid, but the most important point is that there's only one bed. 'Uh, dude, what the hell?' he asks, pointing at the offending furniture. 'What did you think was gonna happen here?'

Benny puts his hands up again. 'Nothin', brother, I swear. They just didn't have any other rooms. Look, see this long pillow?' He indicates the French roll-style pillow running along the headboard. 'We can put that in the middle of the bed, no danger of any funny business.'

Dean sighs and walks around the side of the bed. 'Fine. Where's the bathroom?'

'First door on the left in the hallway.'

'In the hallway? Jesus,' Dean grumbles, but takes his duffel to the hallway while Benny gets spare pillows out of the armoire and puts the roll pillow down the middle of the bed. When Dean returns, Benny takes his turn in the bathroom, and by the time he's back, Dean is lying under the covers on one side of the bed.

'You OK there, chief?'

'Yeah, I'm good. Uh, I just wanted to say, thanks. This is definitely better than the street.'

'Least I can do. Get some sleep, big day tomorrow.' Benny strips down to his t-shirt and boxers and climbs into his side of the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he catches Dean checking him out, but by the time Benny is settled in bed, Dean's got his back to him. 'Night, Dean,' he says as he turns out the light.

'Night, Benny.' 

Benny wakes up before dawn feeling oddly warm and is surprised to find himself with an armful of Dean. He's still in the same position, so Dean must have moved the pillow and cuddled in against him during the night. He smiles predatorially, assuming that Dean's pulling a move, but when he looks down, it's clear that Dean is sound asleep. Either Benny missed his window, or Dean got into this position in his sleep.

'Nick,' Dean mumbles, his hand skimming over Benny's boxers while he grinds his own morning wood against Benny's hip. Benny just lies there, eyes wide, letting it happen, partly out of shock and partly out of desire. When Dean's hand threatens to slip inside his boxers, Benny finally snaps out of it and gently puts his hand on top of Dean's to stop him. Instead of being bothered, Dean takes his hand and kisses it before letting it go and rolling over.

It takes a minute for Benny's breathing to go back to normal, and another couple for his dick to calm down.  He blames the latter for it taking him so long to realise that this is the perfect opportunity to look for the watch in Dean's bag. Carefully getting up, he tiptoes around to Dean's side of the bed. He finds the discarded roll pillow on the floor, so he picks it up and puts it back in place so Dean will be none the wiser about what happened in the night. Dean's empty suitcase is up against the window, but the duffel bag is nowhere to be found. He looks under the bed, in the armoire, even in the bathroom, but it doesn't seem to be anywhere. Then he sees it- Dean must have taken it to bed with him, because it's wrapped in his arms. There's no way Benny can get into it without waking Dean, so with a sigh, he gets back into bed and tries to get another couple of hours of sleep.

Dean wakes up in a great mood after an amazing dream; he can't quite remember the details, but it made him feel all warm and cosy inside. Benny doesn't seem quite as cheerful, grunting out monosyllables as they leave the hotel to head for the US embassy, but that does nothing to affect Dean. He applies for an emergency passport, goes shopping for some new clothes while it's being processed, and goes back to pick it up by late morning. The next stop is the George V, and feeling buoyant, Dean marches straight up to Balthazar and dings the bell on the desk repeatedly.

'Monsieur, welcome back,' Balthazar says, grabbing the bell out of Dean's hand.

'It's incredible how you do that,' Dean says, leaning on the counter. 'The words come out welcome back, but the meaning is completely different. Is it a French thing or a concierge thing?'

'As monsieur wishes.'

'You did it again. Tell me something, because I don't get it. Do you enjoy being that rude? Because when you do that, it just gets underneath my skin and it makes me _completely insane_ ,' Dean growls, grabbing Balthazar by the lapels of his uniform jacket. Benny just stands there trying to stifle a grin as Balthazar extricates himself from Dean's grip, managing to look even snootier than before.

'Thank you, monsieur, for the fascinating lesson in our cultural differences. It would not betray my duty now to inform you that your fiancé and his friend are no longer our guests.'

'Well, whose guests would they be now?'             

'The Villa Florentine in Lyon will have that privilege. They arrive tonight. Perhaps monsieur wishes to catch the train at once? I could arrange for a taxi very quickly.'

Dean smiles his most panty-dropping smile. 'Yes, thank you.'

**********

Castiel paces in the office of the George V, a table full of stolen passports and wallets on the table in front of Bela Talbot. They caught her red-handed, but she's refusing to cooperate. 'Bela, you know how it works. If the little fish is to survive, he must tell the fisherman where the big fish are.'

'Forget it. I'm no rat,' she replies, crossing her arms defiantly.

'You're mixing your metaphors,' Castiel retorts dryly before slamming his fist on the table, making Bela jump. 'Who buys the passports?' he growls, but Bela's attention is suddenly diverted out the window of the office into the hotel foyer.

'A big fish just returned from the United States,' Bela says with a sly smile. 'Benny Lafitte. Your friend, right? Ask him about a stolen watch. He won't be hard to find, take a look.' She tilts her head to indicate behind him, and he sees Benny leaving with a handsome American-looking man.

'Worry less about Benny and more about yourself,' Castiel snaps, but the seed is planted. He wraps up the interrogation, sending Bela with the uniforms for processing before following up the Benny lead. The concierge is more than helpful, informing him that Benny and his friend were going to get a train to Lyon. Castiel calls his two closest assistants and has them meet him at Gare de Lyon, where the three of them station themselves to cover the most likely points in the station for the next few trains to Lyon. Now they just have to wait for Benny to appear.

**********

'Well, the bad news is, all the fast trains to Lyon are sold out,' Benny says as he walks away from the ticket counter. 'I got us tickets for the slow train at six, but it leaves from another station.'

'Aw fuck. Is it far?'

'Nah, ten minutes down the road,' Benny assures him. 'The good news is, that gives us plenty of time for an early dinner. Come on.' He leads Dean up the stairs of the station and into a magnificent Belle Epoque-style restaurant with soaring, ornate ceilings covered in gold leaf and paintings. Dean's jaw drops as he takes it all in, while Benny gets them a table for two.

The waiter hands him the menu, and hell, Dean is in such a good mood that he decides to go for the full French experience: foie gras, escargots, tartare de boeuf and fromages affinés de nos regions, whatever the fuck that means. It's all stupidly delicious and he's practically going to be able to roll onto the train at this point. Benny turns out to be pretty good mealtime company, and Dean's having a pretty good time.

Then he sees them.

Nick, looking surprisingly dapper with a bit of a beard, and his French bitch, sitting across the restaurant, feeding each other something from tiny forks, and they're just close enough that Dean can see the giant fucking rock on her finger. Not just any finger- the fucking ring finger of her left fucking hand, the same place where _he_ has a ring on _his_ finger from when Nick asked him the same fucking question that he's apparently now asked this fucking _goddesse_.

'Uh… Dean? You OK, brother?' he dimly hears Benny ask through the rushing of blood in his ears. He manages to shake his head, and Benny follows his line of sight to Nick's table. 'Oh shit, is that your man?' he asks. Dean nods, his jaw working as his teeth clench tightly. He's vaguely aware of Benny flagging the waiter and throwing some cash on the table, and then he's being manhandled out of his seat.

'What the fuck?' he mutters, but Benny claps a hand over his mouth.

'Calm down, now, chief. You and me, we're gonna get outta here, go catch our train. We're not gonna worry about them until tomorrow. Come on.' He drags Dean out of the restaurant with their bags, and as soon as Nick is out of sight, Dean seems to snap back to reality. 'You're OK, come on,' Benny says soothingly as he guides Dean down the stairs.

'Dude, I'm not a spooked horse,' he snaps, taking his arm back from Benny and stomping down the rest of the steps. 'Where are we going?'

'I just thought we should get away from there. It's almost time for our train anyway. Let's just head to Bercy now.'

They walk in silence for a while, and then Dean says softly, 'They're engaged.'

Benny stops and looks shocked. 'What?'

'She had a giant diamond on her left hand. He must have fucking proposed to her.' He feels Benny's huge hand settle comfortingly on his shoulder.

'I'm sorry, Dean. But hey, they ain't married yet. You got time.'

'It's early over there, but I gotta call home,' Dean says, shaking his head. 'Can I get wifi anywhere around here?' Benny guides them to a café advertising that very service, and he orders two coffees while Dean FaceTimes Nick's sister, Nancy.

'Dean! Oh. Em. Gee!'

'Hey Nance. So, uh, what's the news?'

Nancy rolls her eyes. 'He actually _proposed_ to her!' she shouts. 'He's such an asshole. I can't believe you won't be my brother anymore. Do I have to be friends with Ruby?'

'Nancy,' Dean interrupts, 'stop it. He's not gonna marry her. Now, tell me everything you know.'

'Her parents live near Lyon, so they're going there with them, then they're getting married before coming back to California. We're not even invited,' she says bitterly, before hastily continuing, 'not that I'd go.'

'OK, OK. Do you know when and where the wedding is? Go ask Mom, she's probably got it written down.'

'Um… should you still be calling her Mom?'

'Dammit, Nancy, just get Mom!' Dean growls through gritted teeth. His eyes flip up to Benny, who is drinking from his tiny coffee cup while pointedly not looking at Dean. For a brief moment, Dean admires the thick fingers, but before his thoughts can get any dirtier, Nick's mother appears on screen. 'Hi Mom,' he says with a weak smile.

'Hi sweetie,' she says gently. 'How are you holding up?'

Dean's eyes are swimming with tears, but he manages to hold back. 'I'm, uh… I'm OK. Have you got the information?' He digs into his bag and gets out his book, writing down the details she gives him inside the cover. 'Thanks, Mom. Listen, um… I just want you guys to know, I'm not giving up without a fight.' The tears start flowing now, and he wipes his eyes roughly. 'I'm gonna get him back. This is just a little speedbump.'

'Of course, dear,' she says. 'Let us know if you need anything else, OK?'

'Yeah, I will. Thanks. Big hugs to everybody.' They say their goodbyes and hang up. 'God, this is so fucked up.'

'You'll manage. I ain't known you that long, but I can tell you're a strong guy,' Benny says.

Dean, as always uncomfortable with compliments, shoots him a smirk. 'Been checking out my muscles?'

Thankfully, Benny takes the deflection for what it is and smirks back. 'And your ass. A guy's gotta have some enjoyment with his altruism.'

Before Dean can reply, his phone buzzes with another FaceTime call, and he groans when he sees that it's Sam. He's been avoiding calling because he knows that however Sam reacts, it's going to make him feel worse. 'It's my brother,' he explains to Benny before taking a deep breath, plastering on a smile, and answering the call. 'Sammy! Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?'

Sam presents bitchface number seventeen. 'No, I don't want to sleep with you, Dean.'

'Oh shit, is that what that means? How about bonjour?'

'Why are you speaking French? Where the hell are you?'

'Paris.'

Sam smiles widely. 'Dean, that's great! Nick finally managed to talk you onto a plane?'

Dean fidgets in his seat. 'Um… not exactly.' He gives a very brief version of the whole sordid tale, during which time Sam's expression cycles between several different bitchfaces. 'So I'm gonna get a train to Lyon in a little bit with Benny,' he finishes.

'That fucking asshole. I'm gonna kill him,' Sam says threateningly. 'Do you want me to fly over there and punch him in the dick?'

'Hey, come on, Benny's not that bad,' Dean jokes with a wink to Benny, who just chuckles.

'I mean _Nick_ ,' Sam growls.

'Nah, that would be awkward when I get him back and you're standing at the altar with us.'

Sam gapes. 'Are you serious right now? You actually _want_ him back? I thought you were just going after him to bitch him out or something.'

'Of course I want him back,' Dean says with much greater certainty than he feels. 'I love him. We have a life together.' Sam snorts and mumbles something Dean can't make out. 'What was that, Sammy?'

'I said, you have _his_ life together. You live at _his_ place, doing what _he_ wants. Then the second you push for something _you_ want, he up and dumps you for some chick he just met? Sorry, but he deserves a dick punch.'

Dean has to laugh at that. 'OK, I'll get him back and then give him a dick punch.' Sam grumbles, but Benny clears his throat and points at his wrist. 'Hey, I gotta go, need to get to the train station.'

'OK, keep me posted. And send me a postcard, jerk.'

Dean smiles fondly. 'I will, bitch. See ya.' He hangs up and pockets the phone. Benny leaves some cash on the table and they continue on to the Bercy train station.

The train is old, and the trip takes five and a half hours, so Dean and Benny find a compartment with two bench seats facing each other and get comfortable. Dean dozes off almost immediately, the heavy meal in his stomach combining with the comedown of his adrenaline spike from seeing Nick completely wiping him out.

Benny sees another chance to finally get a look at Dean's duffel bag, despite its current use as a pillow. The zipper is facing out, so if he's careful, he should be able to get a hand inside without disturbing Dean enough to wake him. As slowly and quietly as he can, he unzips it just enough to slip his fingers in, but before he can do anything, Dean stirs. Their faces are close together, and Benny holds his breath.

Then Dean kisses him.

His eyes are closed, and he's obviously still asleep, but he kisses like he means it. 'Mmm, loving the beard, Nicky,' he mumbles before pulling away and curling back into himself.

Benny flops onto his ass on the floor, completely shell-shocked and surprisingly turned on. What had happened in the hotel had been interesting, but that kiss- it was tender, loving, meant for somebody else, and suddenly Benny wants so badly for it to be meant for him. He watches Dean for a few minutes, appreciating the gentle curve of his plush lips, the freckles that cover his face, the subtle lines that are developing around his eyes from what Benny assumes is lots of laughter over the years.

Dean is beautiful, and judging by the two examples of sleepy affection he's mistakenly given Benny, he's also gentle and loving. Benny feels an instant sympathy with Sam and his dick punching plan for Nick. Maybe it's just his rougher background, but he's got some other, more colourful ideas of what to do to the bastard's dick after he's done punching it.

With a sigh, he finally drags himself back up to his seat. A glimpse out the window tells him they're only just past Sens, so it's still another four hours to go. Following Dean's example, he stretches out on the seat and pulls his cap over his eyes to try and sleep.


	4. Chapter 3

Benny manages to doze for a couple of hours before he's roughly woken up by Dean shaking him. 'Benny!' he hisses. 'I don't feel so good, man.' And indeed, Dean is looking quite green.

'There's bathrooms on the train, brother. Just go to the end of the carriage.'

'I already busted both of the ones in this carriage,' he confesses. 'I need to get off this train now!'

Benny looks out the window and closes his eyes. He knows exactly where they are. 'Train don't stop around here, chief. Next stop is Chalon-sur-Saône, I think.'

Dean grabs his forearm, gripping it so tightly his fingers go white. 'I need to get off _now_.'

There's nothing for it; Dean can't know just how terrible his timing is, and it's not fair for him to suffer because of Benny's hang-ups. Benny pulls the emergency cord, and within a couple of minutes, the conductor rushes up to them.

Benny explains the situation in perfect French, the incomprehensible but gorgeous syllables washing over Dean like a soothing balm even as his stomach cramps yet again. That's what he gets for eating all that fancy froggy crap. His stomach is designed to eat good old American food, and now it's trying to kick out the foreign invaders through both ends.

Whatever Benny says to the train guy must do the trick, because he feels the train slowing down, and in another minute, they've pulled up to a platform with a cute little salmon pink building that he assumes is the train station. Benny, the train guy, and the station guy have a rapid conversation in French, and then Dean is being helped off the train by Benny while the station guy gets his bags. Just being off the train feels pretty good, but then he feels the bile rise again, and he looks at Benny in a panic. The station guy must get the picture, because he's rushing to open the station bathroom, and Dean runs in with his duffel bag, barely knowing which way he should be facing at this point.

Benny sits on the one bench by the platform, his cap pulled down low. Of all the damn stations for the train to stop, of course it had to be Meursault, his mother's hometown. He just has to hope that the quietness of the station and its distance from the town proper will keep prying eyes away until the next train comes along. It wouldn't take them all the way to Lyon, but they could spend the night in Chalon and get an early train the next morning without losing too much time.

Unfortunately, the quietness of the station means that the stationmaster has nothing better to do than stare at Benny and try to figure out why he looks familiar.

'Jacques Taranne?' he guesses, and Benny shakes his head. «Je te connais, je te connais,» the man mumbles.

('I know you, I know you.')

'Phillipe Cazal? Michel Desbordes? Luc Teyssier?'

«Écoute, pépé, tu ne me connais pas!» Benny roars, and the stationmaster snaps his fingers.

('Listen, gramps, you don't know me!')

'Benjamin Lafitte!' he cries, and scurries off looking satisfied with himself.

Benny drops his head to his chest, feeling defeated, annoyed, and if he's honest, still a little bit worked up over that kiss. Not that he'd wanna repeat the experience right now- the sounds that have been coming from the station bathroom are not pleasant.

Finally, after over half an hour, Dean comes stumbling out of the station bathroom looking ashen but alive. 'I need water and I need a bed,' he croaks.

'Next train's in an hour and a half, and then it's only twenty minutes to Chalon. We can crash there.'

If looks could kill, Benny would be stone dead. 'Water and a bed. Not in two hours. Now.'

'The station's pretty far from town, Dean. We can't walk it and I don't even know if the taxis are still running at this time of night.' The sound of a car pulling up at the side of the station makes Benny look to the sky as if to ask why God is taunting him. It's only made worse when a man appears on the platform, runs right at Benny, and punches him in the face.

'What the fuck?' Dean cries out as Benny and the stranger start brawling right there. Normally he'd try to break up a fight, but he's still feeling weak from his digestive misadventure, so he flops down on the bench and waits for it to be over. Eventually the two pull apart with no clear winner as far as Dean can tell, and to make it all weirder, they then embrace and start laughing.

Benny walks back to Dean with a split lip and a puffy cheek, but otherwise apparently unscathed. 'Dean, I'd like you to meet my brother Quentin.'

'Your brother?' Dean asks, shocked.

'Yeah. We had some unfinished business from the last time I was here, but it's all good now.'

'Nice to meet you, Dean,' Quentin says, extending a hand. Dean shakes it still somewhat slack-jawed. 'Marcel the stationmaster told me you were here. Can I give you a lift home?'

Benny shifts his feet a bit. 'Not sure I'd be welcome.'

'What do you mean home?' Dean interjects.

'This is where my family lives,' Benny explains. 'My mama's family's from here. But, uh… I didn't exactly leave in good graces last time.'

Quentin waves a hand dismissively. 'Bah. Maman was already in the kitchen when I left making food for you.'

'It's nearly eleven,' Benny says, but Quentin just shrugs.

'You know Maman. Come on, everybody's looking forward to seeing you.' They walk over to Quentin's car, and within a few minutes they're pulling up to a beautiful house. An older couple, presumably Benny's parents, come running out and embrace Benny enthusiastically.

'Maman, Papa, this is my friend Dean,' Benny says once the shower of hugs and kisses stop, and Madame Lafitte hugs him too once Monsieur Lafitte has shaken his hand. 'You don't have to put us up, I'm sure we could get a hotel.'

'Don't be absurd!' Benny's mother cries. 'There's plenty of room, and I've just put some gougères in the oven.'

'Well, I never could say no to your gougères,' Benny grins, as they bring their bags into the house. It's as gorgeous on the inside as the outside, and Dean can't quite reconcile the rough and tumble Benny with the refinement he sees here. He also doesn't have a clue what gougères means, but whatever it is, it smells pretty fucking good, so he lets himself be planted on a plush sofa and given a glass of water. A little while later, Benny's mother hands him a plate of little cheesy bread balls, and they taste as they good as they smell.

'Wow, thanks, Mrs Lafitte! These are awesome!' he says gratefully.

'Please, call me Estelle,' she says warmly, her accent very subtle thanks to her long stay in the US back in the day. 'Benny said you were very sick on the train?'

'Um, yes ma'am. I really appreciate the hospitality.'

'It's our pleasure. Benny will take you to your room, and tomorrow he can show you around Meursault!'

'No, Maman, we gotta leave early tomorrow,' Benny protests, but she waves him off again.

«Bah, c'est ridicule! J'ai déjà commencé le boeuf,» she says dismissively, and Benny looks torn.

('That's ridiculous! I already started the beef.')

'How do you feel about leavin' after lunch tomorrow, chief?' he asks Dean with a pleading expression. 'My mama's making her famous boeuf bourguignon, and it really ain't to be missed.'

'Uh, it's not raw, is it?' Dean asks tentatively, still feeling the ghost of the tartare in his fragile stomach.

'Slow-cooked beef stew cooked in red wine. Melts in your mouth,' Benny assures him.

'OK, cool. That gives us time to discuss a plan for tomorrow, too. But man, I seriously gotta crash right now.' They bid everyone goodnight, and Benny takes the bags and Dean up to the bedroom his mother directs him to take. As soon as Benny sees it, he groans. 'What's wrong?'

'I think my family's got the wrong end of the stick here,' Benny explains, stepping aside to let Dean into the room. Once again, there's just one large bed.

'Dude, I literally could not care less. Just point me to the bathroom so I can piss and brush my teeth while you put that pillow thing in the middle again.'

'My folks don't have those,' Benny says with obvious discomfort. 'Got too used to American style pillows.'

Dean rolls his eyes. 'Fine, like I said, don't care. I'm gonna pass out the second I lie down anyway.' He breezes out and uses the bathroom quickly before crawling under the covers. True to his word, he's asleep by the time Benny gets back from his own ablutions.

Once he's down to a t-shirt and shorts, and in bed himself, Benny takes the opportunity to look at Dean. He's recovered most of the colour in his cheeks and is back to being as pretty as ever. Benny unconsciously licks his lips as he looks at Dean's, remembering how soft they felt and how sweet they tasted during that sleepy kiss on the train. He's longing to kiss him again, and that's pretty fucked up, because Benny Lafitte doesn't _long_ for anything. He doesn't know what it is about Dean that awakens such softness in him, but he knows he needs to toughen up again quick- after all, in a couple of days, Dean's going to be back with his fiancé, and Benny knows he never had a chance anyway.

He's so depressed by that thought that he completely forgets to look through Dean's duffel bag- now lying open on the floor- before falling asleep.

The next morning, Dean wakes up feeling a million times better than the horror show of yesterday. Benny is snoring beside him, and Dean grins fondly as he remembers how uncomfortable Benny was about the bed situation. It was pretty sweet, actually, and now that Dean's awake enough to think clearly about it, he appreciates the thoughtfulness. And it's not like it's a big deal if Benny's folks think they're together.

Hell, if he weren't engaged and on his way to save his man from the clutches of a she-demon, he'd seriously consider it. Benny's pretty hot, there's no denying that, and his accent… well, Dean never realised he was into Cajun accents, but he knows now. Chuckling to himself, he slides out of the bed and picks up his duffel bag, heading to the bathroom to shower off the stale sweat from yesterday.

He turns the shower on but can't find his toiletry bag in the duffel. It's probably slipped into the tear in the lining, so he fishes around in there until he grabs a Ziploc bag.

It does not contain shampoo.

The watch is gorgeous. Dean doesn't know jack about that high-end shit, but even he can guess that all the diamonds and the word Cartier on it mean that it's probably expensive as hell. He has no idea why it's in his bag, but maybe that Bela chick had hidden it in there with whatever other stuff she stole and didn't realise it had fallen in the lining. He sticks it in the pocket of the jeans he's going to wear after his shower and digs out his toiletries so he can finally take his shower.

Once back in the room, where Benny is still zonked out, he slips the watch into the pocket of his jacket before going downstairs to hunt down some food. The whole house smells amazing- apparently the beef thing has been slow cooking all night, and Dean starts salivating. His hunger is back with a vengeance.

Benny's dad greets him when he wanders into the kitchen in search of coffee, and it's immediately clear where Benny gets both his eyes and his accent. He introduces himself properly, and Dean manages not to laugh when the guy tells him his name is Beauregard. He offers Dean a chunk from a fresh baguette with butter and honey from their own hives along with a good strong coffee. Dean sighs into it and starts to think that maybe France isn't so bad after all.

**********

Dean is gone when Benny wakes up, but his duffel bag is there, and Benny thanks all the gods he can think of that he's finally caught a bit of luck. He's smiling as he digs around the bag, finding the tear in the lining and feeling a Ziploc bag inside. His smile fades when he pulls out a bag of shampoo and body wash instead of the watch. He tries again, frantically searching every corner of the wretched bag, but it's not there. He goes to the suitcase next, but that turns up zip as well.

«Merde! Putain!» he curses under his breath. It's no good. The watch is gone, and with it, his future.

('Shit! Fuck!')

**********

Dean is on his third portion of breakfast when Benny finally makes an appearance. «Bonjour,» Benny mumbles. «Il y a du café?»

('Morning. Is there coffee?')

«Bien sûr, mon p'tit,» Beauregard replies, passing over a mug.

('Of course, little one.')

Benny nods gratefully before turning to Dean with half-closed eyes. «T'as bien-dormi?»

'Uh…' Dean replies, squirming in his chair and feeling stupid about being so turned on at Benny accidentally speaking French at him.

'Ah shit, sorry cher. My brain goes native when I'm here and not quite awake yet. Sleep OK?'

'Yeah, like a rock.' _Like the current state of my dick_ , he thinks to himself, surreptitiously adjusting himself under the table.

'Good. So I thought after breakfast we could go for a walk,' Benny offers. Dean agrees, and they wash their dishes before grabbing their jackets and heading out. Benny's brother is out in the garden with a stunning brunette who gives Benny a shy wave that he returns with a nod.

Once they're out of earshot Dean asks, 'So who's the chick?'

'Oh, uh, that's my brother's wife, Andrea,' Benny says with a blush on his cheeks. 'She's sorta why we were fightin' before.'

'Dude, no way. Epic love triangle?'

'Nah. We just slept together a few… dozen times. Quentin wasn't exactly happy when he found out.'

Dean deflates a little with the thought that, despite the flirtatious banter they've had, Benny is probably straight, not that the news should have any effect on him. 'Yeah, I bet he wasn't.'

'To be fair, I also pissed her off when I slept with her other lover, Sorento. He was a firecracker.' He winks at Dean, who grins back, feeling a bit more cheerful again. 'Anyway, she and Quentin made up after she agreed not to sleep with me or Sorento anymore… and he agreed not to sleep with her sister anymore.' Dean looks shocked, but Benny shrugs and says, 'That's France. Some people think having an _affaire de cœur_ is practically a person's patriotic duty.'

'Dude, that is freakin' messed up. Was Fabio on the cover of that paperback?' Dean jokes.

'Looks like it's all water under the bridge now.' Benny stops walking and spreads his arms. 'Anyway, this is Meursault. What do you think?'

Dean looks around and his jaw drops. They're in front of a fountain, which is in front of a gorgeous building with a stunning tiled roof. Around the square are lovely buildings made of light-coloured stone, each more adorable than the last. 'It's like a freakin' postcard, man. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Wish you were here. Actually, can I get a postcard here? I told Sam I'd send one.'

'Yeah, sure.' The big building turns out to be the city hall and tourism office, so Dean buys a postcard there before they go to the post office, which is just around the corner. They continue their walk until they reach a large building with a sign that says Pépinière Viticoles. Benny nods at it. 'I wanna show you something.'

They walk into what looks like a mix between a factory and a greenhouse. A cheerful man in an apron walks up to Benny and shakes his hand. They speak quickly in French, Benny shaking his head sadly, and the other man claps his shoulder sympathetically before going back to his post.

'What is this place?' Dean asks.

'It's a nursery for vines. Philippe does some high-level stuff here, grafting phylloxera-resistant root stocks onto French grape plants, plus making new and interesting crosses. Can't use those crosses here, of course. Burgundy's real strict about what grapes you can plant, but other parts of the country and the world ain't so picky.'

'Oh, so this is where you're making your special new wine with that vine you smuggled,' Dean nods with understanding. 'Where is the little fella?'

Benny shrugs. 'Back at the house. Doesn't matter, can't afford it now.'

'How come?'

'I had a plan, but it didn't work out.'

'What kinda plan?'

'I had something to sell.'

Dean looks interested. 'Like what? Stocks, bonds, a little bag of plutonium?'

Benny sighs. 'It doesn't matter. I lost it.'

Dean tsks at him. 'You lost it? Dude, that sucks. If it was me, I'd have a back-up plan, something more than bullshit to fall back on.' He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the bag containing the watch. 'Something like this, maybe?'

Benny's eyes light up. 'Where the hell did you find that?'

'It was in my duffel bag. It had fallen into the lining and I found it this morning. Thought maybe that Bela chick had stashed it there.' He hands Benny the watch, and a moment later is engulfed in a giant bear hug.

'You're my lucky charm, Dean,' Benny says against his ear, and Dean shivers a little. 'This was my grandpappy's watch, and now I can take it to the Cartier shop in Lyon to get the money for my vines. Thank you.' He plants a kiss on Dean's lips before letting him go completely and tucks the watch into his own pocket before walking away to update the man he was speaking to before. They smile and shake hands, but Dean is still frozen in place when Benny gets back. 'You all right, chief?'

Dean shakes himself out of it. 'Yeah, fine. When should we be back for lunch?'

'We still got some time. If we get back too soon, maman's liable to make us work for it, so how about we walk back real leisurely-like?' They meander around the beautiful town, stopping in the occasional shop, and Dean even remembers to take some pictures eventually. He's still feeling a bit knocked sideways by that kiss but manages to mostly recover his faculties by the time they get back to the house.

Apparently Benny's parents have informed the entire extended family, because Dean gets introduced to about twenty different people who have all gathered at a giant table in the spacious backyard, surrounded by vines, a flower garden, a vegetable patch, and a bit further off, the beehives. The food and wine is incredible and there's a ton of it, which Benny explains is partly his mother overdoing it and partly all the cousins and whoever else bringing dishes as well.

At some point Benny gets dragged away by an aunt or something, and Andrea plops herself down in his former seat. 'So, you're Benny's new lover,' she says bluntly.

'Uh, no, we're just friends,' Dean corrects her and she raises her eyebrow.

'No need to be coy. I've been on the receiving end of those looks from him too.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' Dean says, feeling himself blushing. 'It's not like that. I'm engaged.'

Andrea smiles. 'I had one of my most exciting affairs during our engagement. Such a thrilling time.'

'Uh, OK. That's fine for, you know, France, but in America we believe in monogamy.' She snorts, and he has to admit that it's total bullshit, especially given the reason he's even in this country. 'OK, _I_ believe in monogamy.'

She looks him up and down with heat in her eyes. 'Pity.' Then she looks over at Benny and smiles sadly. 'Especially for him.' She gets up without saying another word, and Dean is left wondering what the hell just happened.

Benny just manages to escape from Great Aunt Mathilde when Andrea takes his arm and pulls him for a walk in the garden. «Ton nouvel amant est vraiment beau. Un peu timide et américain à mon goût, mais tellement mignon.»

('Your new lover is very handsome. A bit shy and American for my taste, but really cute.')

«Il n'est pas mon amant,» Benny protests.

('He's not my lover.')

«Il a dit la même chose. Mais tu le veux.»

('That's what he said. But you want him.')

Benny shrugs. Andrea has always been able to see right through him. «Bah oui. Comme tu dis, il est si beau.»

('Sure. Like you said, he's hot.')

«Je crois qu'il te veut aussi, mais il ne le sait pas encore. Tu dois essayer. Je te parie qu'il est simplement délicieux quand il est dans les affres de la passion.» She looks back at Dean and licks her lips. «Quel dommage qu'il soit si… traditionnel.»

('I think he wants you too, but he doesn't know it yet. You should give it a try. I bet he's simply delicious when he's in the throes of passion. Shame he's so… traditional.')

«Qu'est-ce qu'il a dit?» Benny asks with genuine curiosity.

('What did he say?')

Andrea shrugs. «Il est fiancé et monogame.»

('He's engaged and monogamous.')

Benny sighs. «Oui. Je sais.»

('Yeah. I know.')

«Et le fiancé, il est où?»

('And where's the fiancé?')

«Lyon. Lui, il n'est pas monogame,» he says derisively.

('Lyon. He's _not_ monogamous.')

«Oh là là,» Andrea says knowingly. «Cocu?» Benny nods. «Peut-être peut-tu apporter un peu de réconfort à ce pauvre garçon,» she teases, then whispers in his ear, «t'es bon à ça.»

('Oh dear. Cheated on? Maybe you can give the poor boy some comfort. You're good at that.')

«Arrête. C'est pas comme ça. Nous sommes amis, c'est tout.»

('Stop it. It's not like that. We're just friends.')

«D'accord. Je te crois.» She winks and walks away, and Benny just shakes his head with a chuckle.

('OK. I believe you.')

After lunch, they pack up their stuff, and Benny's family all embrace Dean warmly, apparently not all of them having gotten the memo that the two of them are just friends. Quentin drives them to Chalon, where they can get a faster train down to Lyon at two o'clock. Once they've found their seats, Dean can't resist asking Benny about Andrea.

'So… Andrea looked like she was trying to get friendly with you again.'

Benny laughs. 'Hell no. She was just teasin' me about you.'

'Me?'

'Oh yeah. She was impressed with how handsome my new lover is.'

'Dude! I told her it wasn't like that, I swear!'

'I know, cher, she told me what you said. She was just a bit sceptical, given my history, that I don't wanna hit that.' 

'What'd you say to that?' Dean asks, unable to meet Benny's eye.

'I said I was only denying that we're together,' Benny says with a wink.

Dean grins. 'So you're saying you _do_ wanna hit that?'

'Well, given that I ain't blind, feeble-minded, straight or asexual, obviously I wanna hit that. But you're faithful to your man, and I respect that.'

'Thanks, Benny.' Dean smiles warmly, almost fondly at him, and his heart skips a beat as he imagines being the target of that smile all the time. Not for the first time, Benny inwardly curses the lucky, stupid bastard that is Nick. 'Hey, we never did come up with a plan for when we get to Lyon,' Dean remembers.

'So you still wanna go through with that?'

'Yeah, why wouldn't I?'

'Just wanna make sure you really want to keep goin' after this guy after everything he's done. Why?'

'Because I love him,' Dean insists, but Benny keeps staring at him, and more pours out against his will. 'And I'm afraid that if he doesn't come back, that I'll... it'll hurt so much that I'll shrivel up and never be able to love anyone again.'

Benny puts a hand on his shoulder. 'You say that now, but after a time, you'd forget. First, you would forget his weak chin-'

'He doesn't have a weak chin!'

'And then that snubbed-up, bulbous nose-' Benny carries on as if Dean hasn't said anything.

'There's nothing wrong with his nose!'

'And after a while you would struggle to remember the exact colour of his weirdly-far-apart eyes.'

'Dude, come on!'        

'And one day you wake up and he's gone. His voice, his smell, his face. He'll have left you, and you can start over.'

Dean frowns, considering Benny's words. Something about them rings true deep inside him, but he doesn't feel ready to give up yet. He just can't. 'I want him back. You said you'd help.' Benny puts his hand up in surrender. 'So what's the plan?'

'The plan is obvious. We need to make him crazy jealous.'

'How?'

'Well, we just had twenty of my closest friends and family convinced that we're a thing without even trying. Why not use that to our advantage?'

'Seriously?'

'Mm hmm. Here's what I'm thinkin'…'

**********

'Sir, that was François Devereaux from the Lyon gendarmerie,' Hannah reports to Castiel in his borrowed office at the préfecture de police in Paris. 'Benny and his travelling companion have just arrived in Lyon on a train from Chalon. Do you want them to take him in?'

Castiel taps his pen against his lips as he considers it. 'Not yet. Right now all we've got is the word of a known thief that he's done anything wrong at all. Who's the other guy?'

'Dean Winchester, US citizen, auto mechanic resident in California.'

'Benny has been living there too. Maybe this Dean Winchester is his boyfriend. If they were coming from Burgundy, they may have just been visiting his family.' He considers his options for a moment, then nods. 'OK. The locals are doing fine with the stolen passports for now, so why don't we go back to headquarters, and I'll think about the Benny thing some more? I don't want to interrupt a romantic vacation because the likes of Bela put some nonsense in my head.'

Hannah nods and leaves to make the arrangements. Castiel takes Bela Talbot's file and reads through it once more. The locals had interviewed her again and just sent up the latest transcript, so he tries to put Benny out of his mind and focus on the passports. Unfortunately, Bela had managed to bring the conversation back around to the alleged stolen watch during her interview.

Apparently, Dean Winchester had been one of her victims, and not long after she'd made the drop of identity documents, Benny and Dean had stormed into her apartment demanding that she return his stuff. She had returned Dean's all-but-empty bags and a plant that Benny was particularly concerned about. They had stormed out again fighting about the plant, and then a little while later, Benny had returned demanding that she return the Cartier watch that he swore had been with the plant. She claims to know nothing about it, that it wasn't in the stuff she sold, but Benny was pretty worked up about it and left again quickly.

Castiel rubs his temples and sighs. The plant is one problem, what with it being highly illegal to transport living plants without a permit due to biosecurity regulations. A Cartier watch would almost certainly be wildly expensive, but if it's personal property, there shouldn't be any customs issues with it. If it's genuinely Benny's watch, he could just have worn it. Which leads Castiel to the obvious conclusion that it _isn't_ Benny's watch, and there must be a reason to keep it hidden.

He logs onto the Interpol system and looks for information on recent watch thefts in northern California, and bingo- two days before Benny left San Francisco, a member of a high-end gym had reported the theft of a Cartier watch from the locker room. With a few more minutes of digging, he finds that Benny works there part-time as a cleaner.

'Dammit, Benny!' He growls. 'You're better than this!' Taking a deep breath, he calls the police precinct in San Francisco taking care of the case to get more details. Maybe there's a way to sort this out. He runs a finger across the thin scar on his throat; he owes it to Benny to give him a shot to make this right.


	5. Chapter 4

«Merci, Monsieur Lafitte, et bienvenu à Villa Florentine,» the concierge says, returning Benny's- well, technically Quentin's- credit card.

('Thank you, Mr Lafitte, and welcome to Villa Florentine.')

'Damn, this place is nice,' Dean says appreciatively. 'Nick's tastes have gotten swanky.'

'Didn't you say this Ruby chick is from Lyon? How come they're stayin' in a hotel anyway?'

'Oh, uh, according to Nick's mom, they don't actually live in the city. They're from a place about an hour away called… uh, Saint Dennis in Boogey.'

Benny chuckles. 'I think you mean St-Denis-en-Bugey,' he pronounces correctly, and OK, Dean admits to himself that he may have mangled the pronunciation a bit more than necessary just to hear Benny say it properly. French is kind of a sexy language, so sue him.

'Right, that. They're also having the…' he swallows, 'ceremony here next week.'

Benny rubs Dean's back comfortingly. 'No, they're not, brother.' Dean smiles at him gratefully. He doesn't know what he'd do without Benny helping him with all this stuff. 'Now come on. We can drop off our stuff and then do some shopping to get you ready.'

The room is nice, and once again they'll be sharing a bed, though if all goes according to plan, only for a couple of nights until Dean and Nick get back together. Dean finds himself increasingly less enthusiastic about that prospect, but he tells himself it's just nerves. After dropping their bags, Benny takes him to Rue de la République and insists on paying for the sexy new suit and tiny swim trunks Dean chooses as part of the plan. Neither are the sort of thing Dean would ever think to buy, but that's kinda the point: he's a new Dean who wears shiny maroon suits and forest green booty-shorts swimsuits that put Daniel Craig to shame, and Nick won't know what hit him. He isn't at all influenced to make the purchases because of the heat in Benny's eyes when Dean models them in changing room of the shop. Nope.

Well… maybe a little.

Benny buys himself a sharp-looking linen suit and Panama hat, along with a red Speedo that have Dean almost choking on his own tongue when Benny tries them on. He can't help but notice the beefy, toned arms and the nice spread of hair on a well-built chest, thinning down over a surprisingly defined stomach into a tempting happy trail that disappears into the barely-there swimsuit. Benny's legs are thick and muscular, and not as hairy as Dean had expected. As for what was covered by the Speedo… well, Dean doesn't need to have much of an imagination to picture that.

When they get back to the room, they change into their new swimwear and put on the fluffy white robes provided by the hotel to hit the spa. Benny had somehow managed to sweet-talk or bribe the spa receptionist into telling him that Nick and Ruby were having a couples massage at five. That means when Dean drops his robe and settles himself down poolside around six, he doesn't have long to wait.

They come out arm in arm, carrying little cups containing some kind of hot beverage. Dean is only just able to hide his smile when Nick trips over his own feet and spills the contents of his cup all over Ruby's robe. She squeals and jumps back, but Nick doesn't even notice; he's too busy staring at Dean, who pretends to just notice the commotion and pushes down his sunglasses as he sits up. He feels a pang as he remembers doing the same thing the very first time he saw Nick, but now is no time for sentimentality. He's on a mission.

'D-Dean?' Nick stammers.

'Nick! Hey man, what's up?'

'What are you doing here?' Nick asks, still in shock.

Dean shrugs. 'Chillin'. Hey, is that Ruby?' He waves cheerfully at her, and she waves back suspiciously. 'Don't worry, I won't bite. Please, join me. Let me take a good look at the woman who stole my Nicky's little heart.'

'I did not steal anything that didn't want to be stolen,' she says with a plastered-on smile, dropping the robe to reveal a slim, tanned body in a tiny bikini. She sits in the recliner next to Dean and stretches out.

'Damn,' Dean says appreciatively. 'She's smart, Nick. And beautiful, and probably good at everything.'

'Listen, Dean-' Nick begins, but Dean waves him off.

'Chill, man. I'm not here to pick a fight.' He waves down a waiter, who walks over. 'Hi, excusez-moi, I don't speak much French, so you'll have to bear with me. Can I get bee-air please? That's the word for beer, right? Thanks. You guys want anything?' They both shake their heads, and the waiter walks off, but Nick keeps staring at Dean nervously. 'What?'

'Nothing. You just seem… different.'

'Well, Nick, I'm going through some kind of… I don't know, a transitional thing, I guess. See, after you called, I decided to get on a plane to Paris and get you back.' He turns to Ruby and winks. 'I hate to fly. I mean, I never freakin' fly. Right, Nick?'

'Yes. Never,' Nick agrees.  

'There ya go. But there was no way everything I'd been building toward would be destroyed because some pouty little- and this is before I knew you personally- bitch, wanted to steal a husband. I bought the ticket, got on the flying metal death tube and somehow made it over the ocean. Then some crazy-ass bullshit happened.'

'What happened?' Nick asks, rapt with attention.

'Everything went wrong. Seriously, dude, like _everything_. I got all my shit stolen, ended up wandering the streets of Paris, no cash, no passport, only had my phone because it had been in my pocket. And, let me tell you, you can do a lot of soul-searching in a time like that. I realised that I've spent most of my life living for somebody else. First Sammy, then you. I thought if I always put myself second, made myself needed, I'd be safe. But it's bullshit. You're setting yourself up for disappointment and having a boring-ass time in the process. Uh, no offence, Nick.' The waiter returns with the beer and hands it to Dean. 'Mercy. Anyway, that's when I took up with Benny.'

'Benny?' Nick repeats incredulously.

'Well, he said his name was Benjamin, but all French-sounding, like Bongjamang or whatever. He'd get real riled up when I couldn’t say it right, so eventually he said to just call him Benny. Mind you, sometimes I say it wrong just to rile him up, you know what I’m sayin'?' Dean says with a wink. He holds his hands almost a foot apart and mouths, 'Huuuge hands. The marks are amazing.'

'Marks?' Nick squeaks, turning bright red.

Dean smirks and finishes off his beer, then spots Benny by the bar. 'There he is! Benny, come on over! I want you to meet some awesome people.'

Benny jogs over in his robe, holding a beer in his hand. He smiles down at Dean before kissing the tip of his nose. 'Bonjour,' he greets Nick and Ruby, both of whom now look completely flummoxed.

'Benjamin, the lovely Ruby.' Benny kisses her hand. 'And Nick.'

Benny shakes his hand with a surprised look on his face. 'Nick? Sweetie pie? Oh là là là là là là! Maintenant je comprends tout!' He winks at Dean and downs his beer in one long gulp. 'Would you like another drink, my little cabbage?' Benny asks in an exaggerated French accent.

'Please, sweetheart.' Benny kisses the top of Dean's head and walks off towards the bar. 'Hey, what did he say just now?' Dean asks Ruby.

'He said, "Now I understand everything,"' she translates.

'Hah, right, gotcha. He doesn't speak much English, but we seem get by fine.'

'You do?' Nick asks sceptically.

'Oh yeah. I guess it's that transitional thing, to help me get over us. That's probably what it is.' Dean shrugs and grins. 'Eh, what the hell, am I right?' He chuckles as he clinks his bottle against Ruby's little cup.

Nick looks back at the bar, where Benny is getting handed another beer bottle. 'So, um, what does he do?'

'You mean besides what we do together?' Dean thinks for a minute. 'I dunno. I'm not sure he does anything. Huh.' He shrugs again and receives the bottle from Benny when he returns from the bar.

'My darling, I am going to swim for a bit,' Benny says. 'Is that OK?'

'Sure thing, hon,' Dean replies, and watches out of the corner of his eye as both Nick and Ruby admire the spectacle that is Benny in that fucking Speedo. He slides into the pool and starts doing laps. 'Mmm. Good stuff. Anyway, Nick, I was hoping maybe we could meet up for dinner while I'm here, discuss how we're gonna split stuff and whatever. We're only here for a couple of days, so would tomorrow be OK?'

'Um, yeah, fine,' Nick agrees, still stunned.

Ruby pokes him with her toe. 'But Nicky, we are supposed to go to the opera with my parents,' she pouts.

'Oh, sorry, honey, but I do need to sort this stuff out. You guys go ahead without me.' He turns back to Dean. 'Seven in the hotel restaurant OK?'

Dean finishes his own beer, then starts on Benny's for good measure. 'Sounds good, dude. It's fancy right? Like suit fancy?'

'It has a Michelin star,' Ruby snaps.

'Like the tyres?' Dean asks, confused. 'Is it a drive-thru?'

'Mon Dieu,' Ruby mutters. 'It is the top award for cuisine.'

'Awesome. I'll wear a suit.' Dean takes off his sunglasses and stands up, stretching to give Nick a show. Yeah, he looks fucking awesome in those trunks. 'I'm gonna join Benny in the pool. You guys in?'

'No, we need to go,' Ruby says sharply.

'Yeah, we better go.' Nick sounds a bit less convinced, which may have something to do with the way he's looking at Dean's swimsuit.

'Cool. Catch you tomorrow then.' He smiles widely before hopping into the pool. 'Benjamin!' he calls out, and Benny swims over to him.

'Allo, bébé,' Benny murmurs, pushing Dean up against the wall of the pool and wrapping Dean's legs around his waist while Dean puts his arms on Benny's shoulders. 'Missed you.' He starts kissing Dean's neck, and the gasp that elicits isn't an act.

'Not here, babe,' Dean says with a laugh. There's a crashing sound behind him, and they both look up to see that Nick has managed to trip and knock over the recliner and table. 'Everything OK?'

'Fine! Fine!' Nick replies awkwardly and rushes off after an unimpressed Ruby.

Benny grins and whispers in Dean's ear, 'Ruby does _not_ look happy. He was watching us the whole time. Couldn't tear his eyes away from ya, cher. ' He pulls back a bit, but his hands are still on Dean's waist, Dean's legs are wrapped around _his_ waist, and neither of them seem particularly inclined to move.

'It did go pretty awesome, didn't it?'

'He was completely blindsided. Thought he was gonna start droolin' all over that weak chin of his when he saw those shorts on ya. Not that I can blame him.' Benny bites his lip and looks down at Dean's chest. 'I didn't realise the freckles went all the way down.'

'Shut up,' Dean says bashfully, a shy little smile turning up his lips. 'He doesn't have a weak chin. And they were both drooling over your freakin' Speedo. Jesus.'

'Speakin' of which…' Benny starts pulling away from Dean reluctantly. 'Better cool myself off before I have to get out of the pool.'

'You sayin' I have an effect on you, Benny?' Dean teases, clasping his ankles together and using his legs to pull Benny back in again. Benny doesn't have to reply- Dean can feel the effect he's having. 'Oh.'

'Yeah, you're fuckin' hot, OK? Har har,' Benny huffs, a bit embarrassed. He presses even tighter against Dean, feeling that Dean is in a similar situation. 'Oh look. Instant karma.'

'Bite me,' Dean retorts with a grin.

'I'd love to. But that won't help either of us with this state of affairs.'

Dean laughs again and unclasps his ankles so he can push Benny away. 'Knew you'd be a perv. Come on, I'm getting hungry.' He dashes out of the pool and puts on his robe quickly enough that nobody can see what's going on in his swim trunks, then holds out Benny's at the side of the steps so he doesn't have to go far with an overstretched Speedo.

On their way back to the room, Benny notices a sign by the restaurant. 'Well ain't that perfect?' he chuckles as they get in the elevator.

'What?'

'Tomorrow night they're having a live band and dancing on the outdoor terrace.'

'Dancing?' Dean looks panicked as they walk into the room. 'Like waltzing or whatever?'

'Well, couples type dancing, yeah. Very romantic.'

'If you know how to freakin' dance,' Dean grumbles.

'I'll teach ya. You want the shower first?'

Dean nods, and even manages to resist rubbing one out while he's in there. Benny takes his turn next, and Dean puts on a t-shirt and khakis he'd bought in Paris. Once Benny is dressed, Dean brings up the dancing thing again. 'So you know how to dance?'

'Don't tell anybody, but I took dance lessons for years when I was younger. My specialty was salsa, but I can do most things.'

'How the hell did you get into that?'

'How else? Trying to impress a girl, of course.'

'All right, let's do it.'

'Right now?'

'Why not?'

'OK. We need some music.' Benny fiddles with his phone until he finds what he's looking for and sets it on the nightstand as a song starts playing. It sounds like 'Dream a Little Dream of Me' but to Dean's surprise, the singing is in French. 'Come here.' Benny puts him into a close dance hold and guides his steps until they find themselves in a nice rhythm. 'See? Not so hard.'

'Yeah, that's nice. Thanks.' They just dance quietly for a while, enjoying the music.

'So, back to the ol’ ball and chain tomorrow,' Benny says as they sway.

'Guess so,' Dean replies, feeling less enthusiastic about it than he thought he would.

The hand Benny has at his lower back starts inching slowly down. 'I don't suppose you're interested in one last hurrah before that?'

Dean pulls back just enough to look Benny in the eye. 'That an offer?'

Benny shrugs. 'It's not a secret that I'm attracted to ya, cher. Not about to pass it up if it's goin'.' He tries to sound casual, but his eyes betray a greater strength of feeling. Dean would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it, so he figures what the hell and leans in for a kiss. The dancing stops as Benny decides he needs both hands on Dean's face, cupping his jaw and fingertips going into his hair. The kiss deepens quickly, lips and teeth and tongue, hot and intense.

Benny feels an unfamiliar tightness in his chest, a fire in his belly that's beyond simple, cheap lust. Dean does _things_ to him that scare the hell out of him, and he has to pull away to breathe in a way that's more than just a simple need for oxygen.

Dean's heart is pounding. Benny's lips feel strangely familiar despite them only having had that one peck in Meursault, but more than that, they feel _right_. Dean is hungry, desperate for more, but he knows that if this goes any further tonight, all his plans for getting Nick back will fail. It's a distraction he can't afford, just infatuation, and he won't be the same kind of asshole that Nick was to him.

'I'm sorry, I can't,' he says hoarsely, taking a step back from Benny.

'Yeah, of course, sorry,' Benny replies, letting his hands drop and taking his own step away. 'Don't know what I was thinkin'.'

'It's not because of you. You're… you're awesome. If Nick wasn't in the picture…'

Benny puts up a hand. 'Say no more. I get it. Really. He was there first, he's got dibs, all that. I shouldn't have gone there.'

'It's good, we're cool. Hey, do you wanna go get some food? If I have to eat fancy shit tomorrow, I need some junk food tonight.'

'Naw, I think I'll order up some room service and watch some crappy TV if that's OK.'

'Sure, man. I'll see you later then.' He grabs his wallet and heads out, part of him- especially a very specific part- already regretting passing up Benny's invitation.

Not far from the hotel, he finds a fast food-looking place with a couple of tables and an enticing greasy smell. Luckily the guy behind the counter speaks enough English to get through Dean's order, but there must still be something lost in translation with the word kebab, because Dean thought he was ordering little sticks of meat and instead gets something like a gyro with fries. He shrugs it off, because it turns out to be fucking amazing anyway.

He's just finishing his fries when a dude in a trenchcoat sits down in the chair opposite. 'Hello, Dean. Enjoying your kebab?' says the man with a deep, rough voice. He looks vaguely familiar, but Dean can't quite place him.

'Do I know you?'

'No. But we have a mutual acquaintance: Benny Lafitte. I'm Castiel Novak.' He reaches into his coat and pulls out a badge. 'I'm with Interpol. I'd like to talk to you about a watch.'

'The watch. Right. I guess he was probably supposed to declare it at customs, huh? Does he have to pay a big fine or something?' Castiel gives him a hard look, and Dean sighs. 'So why not just arrest him?'

Castiel runs a finger along his throat absent-mindedly. 'I owe Benny a pretty big debt, much bigger than money. If it can be returned to me "anonymously,"' and yeah, the guy actually uses air quotes, 'he won't get in trouble.'

'He'll never agree,' Dean warns.

'He has to,' Castiel insists, handing Dean his card. 'I've made arrangements, as long as I get the watch back by the day after tomorrow, he'll be OK. Call me if you can help.' He stands up and walks out, leaving Dean wondering what the hell to do.

By the time gets back to the hotel, he's decided on a plan. Benny is sitting in bed watching TV and drinking a beer. Dean gets himself ready for bed and joins him. 'Anything good on?'

'Nah,' Benny replies, flipping the TV off. 'Find some good junk food?'

'Yeah, man. Kebabs are weird here, but they taste fucking good.'

'That they do,' Benny chuckles. 'So I was thinkin', tomorrow maybe we could do some sightseeing. There's a bus tour of the city, and we could get some lunch and plan some more about what you'll say to Nick. What do you say?'

Dean smiles at Benny and knows exactly what he's going to do about the watch. 'Cool. Oh, I forgot I told Sam I'd call him. I'll be back in a bit.' Dean quickly puts his pants back on and goes out into the hall to call Castiel. He explains his plan, and as expected, Castiel tries to dissuade him, but he's adamant. Castiel promises to make all the arrangements, and Dean thanks him before returning to the room. 'Uh, Sam says hi,' he lies. Benny salutes in response. 'Anyway, I'm beat, so, goodnight.'

'Night, chief.' He squeezes Dean's shoulder and rolls over.

Dean falls asleep not long after. He doesn't dream of Nick.

**********

Lyon turns out to be a gorgeous city. Dean ignores the canned tour bus commentary in favour of chatting with Benny. After their closeness yesterday, that accent is really doing things to Dean, and knowing that in a couple of days he probably won't ever hear it again is a more upsetting thought than he'd expected.

When they get off the bus at the same fancy square where they had gotten on, Benny leads Dean through a swanky shopping district, stopping at the window of the Cartier shop. 'That's where I'll sell my watch tomorrow,' he says with a hopeful air.

'Right. Your watch. Hey, I was thinking. How about I sell it for you?'

'Huh? Why?'

'Well, you know. Like you said for customs. You're… you, with your beard and all that, and I'm-'

'Mr Clean-Cut All-American Underwear Model,' Benny grins, getting the gist of it. 'And you walk in there with your pink polo shirt and John Wayne coming off a horse swagger… yeah, that works. Let's do it. Thanks, Dean.'

The rest of the day passes by too quickly, and before he knows it, Dean is in the bathroom of the hotel room putting the finishing touches on his artfully tousled hair. At Benny's suggestion, he's left a bit of scruff on his face, and he's got to admit that the maroon suit with a black shirt looks amazing. He steps out into the room to find Benny standing on the balcony in his linen suit, looking pretty dapper himself. Dean feels his heart squeeze for a moment, but he takes a deep breath and steels himself for meeting Nick.

'What do you think?' he calls out to Benny, who turns around and gives Dean a lingering once-over. Dean can't help but blush at the hungry look on Benny's face and the way he licks his lips like Dean is a tasty-looking snack.

'Jesus, Dean. If Nick doesn't wanna rip that suit right off ya the moment he sees ya, he can't be human.'

'Flatterer,' Dean smirks.

'Nothin' but the truth. I wish my brother could see you now.' Benny pulls the Cartier watch out of his pocket. 'I want you to wear this tonight.'

'What? No, I couldn't,' Dean demurs, but Benny gently takes his wrist and puts it on.

'It'll be your good luck charm, cher.' He takes a step back and admires the effect. 'Perfect. OK. Let's practice. I'll be Nick.'

'And I'll be Dean.'

Benny takes Dean in his arms and begins swaying gently. 'So, we're dancing. I realise how much I need you. I'm thinking, I'm an idiot, a fool, a chinless, mindless-'

'Yeah, OK, I get it.'

'OK, so, we're dancing, it all feels so right… what do you say to me?'

'I don't know anymore,' Dean mumbles against Benny's shoulder.

'You don't?'

'I don't know when to stop pretending. I mean, when do I tell him…'

'That you only love him and still want him?' Benny suggests, an odd tone to his voice. 'You'll know. You'll tell him and that'll be that.'

'Awesome,' Dean replies, but it sounds forced even to his own ears. 'So what are you up to tonight?'

'I'll be working on part two of the plan.'

'What's part two?'

'While you're busy winning back Nick, I'll be keeping the lovely Miss Ruby occupied.' He winks, and Dean's blood turns to ice.

'Oh?' he croaks out. 'How?'

'She'll be feeling a little sad tonight, a little angry, a little vulnerable. I'll find her and I'll... comfort her.'

'Wouldn't want you to do anything awful,' Dean says with a hint of bitterness.

'I'm doin' it for you, cher. I'll find her, I'll talk to her, maybe a few drinks…'

'Yeah, I get it. Just… shut up and dance.' They sway for a bit longer, but Dean's skin is crawling. He tells himself it's just nerves, and nothing to do with the thought of Benny keeping Ruby _occupied_. Eventually he pulls away, unable to look Benny in the eye. 'Guess I'd better go down.'

'Good luck, Dean. I'm sure you'll get your man.'

'Yeah, thanks. Uh, good luck to you too, I guess.'

Benny straightens his lapels and grins. 'Won't need it.'

**********

The look on Nick's face when Dean walks in is worth every penny of the suit's hefty price tag. Dean even gets the satisfaction of putting a finger under Nick's chin (which, now he looks at it closely again, _is_ kinda weak) to push his mouth shut. They go to dinner and make awkward conversation, with Dean telling slightly-modified stories of his travels with Benny to keep the silence from being too stifling. Nick seems too embarrassed to return the favour with stories of Ruby, much to Dean's relief. When dessert arrives, Dean pulls a pen and paper out of his inside jacket pocket and starts in on the purported reason for this meeting- dividing up their stuff to complete their breakup.

'OK, you can keep the bonsai, I always thought it was kinda creepy to have a midget tree. The lamp we got in New York is yours, but I wanna keep the Naked Cowboy hat. The love seat in the living room... Tell me if you think this is crazy, but we get a chainsaw,' Dean mimics the sound of a chainsaw as he brings his arm down, 'cut that sucker right down the middle and make two chairs.'

'Can we not talk about this?' Nick whines. 'It's so depressing, isn't it?'

'It's business, Nick. This is the business of breaking up. If you can't handle it, I could see what Nancy and your folks want to keep, then have a garage sale with the rest and send you half the cash. It'll be easy since the garage is just downstairs. Hehe,' Dean chuckles and keeps writing his list.

'You must hate me,' Nick says miserably.

'I don't,' Dean says calmly. 'The record collection is a bit tough. Most of them are mine, really, so why don't you just let me have all of them?'

'You don't hate me?' Nick asks incredulously.

Dean shrugs. 'Nah. I mean, I _did_ , Nick. I _really_ did for a while, but now…' He shrugs again. 'Eh.'

'Dean… I…' Nick is clearly choked up, and Dean looks at him with concern.

'Oh, babe, are you crying?'

'What? No, no,' he says, wiping the tears from his face. 'You know, I just feel so totally, horribly guilty.'

'Listen, man, don't feel guilty,' Dean assures him, 'because I'll start feeling guilty that I made you feel guilty and... Actually, you know what? That was the old me. Just feel guilty. Swim in it ‘til your fingers get all pruny.' He grins and goes back to his list.

'You're amazing. You really are,' Nick says warmly. 'Dean… will you dance with me? Just… one last dance?'

Dean gives him a lopsided smile and takes his offered hand.

**********

«Tu as raison. Il a un menton fuyant. Et des fois j'ai envie de le taper,» Ruby says bitterly as she ships her Champagne.

('You're right. He has a receding chin. And sometimes I just want to smack it.')

«Tu perds ton temps. Il n'est pas fiable.»

('You're wasting your time. He can't be trusted.')

«Mais pas du tout. C'est un homme remarquable. Si tendre.» She sighs. «Pas comme les hommes français. Enfin, tu comprends.»

('That's not true. He's a remarkable man. So tender. Not like French men. You understand.')

«Bah, oui,» Benny coos supportively. «Je comprends.»

('Yes, I understand.')

«Comment a-t-il pu me faire ça? Je ne comprends pas.» She puts her hand on Benny's. «Ça ne devrait pas m'arriver. Ça ne m'est jamais arrivé.» She pouts prettily and Benny looks her up and down with an appreciative glint in his eye.

('How could he do this to me? I don't understand. This shouldn't happen to me. This has never happened to me.')

«Oui, j'imagine.»

('Yes, I imagine.')

«Il devrait être avec _moi_ , dans _ma_ chambre, et Dean, _lui,_ attendrait toute la nuit.» Ruby sighs again and leans closer. «Regarde-moi, s'il te plaît, et dis moi ce que tu vois.»

('He should be with me, in my room, and Dean, he would wait all night. Look at me, please, and tell me what you see.')

Benny licks his lips before pulling the bottom one between his teeth. He runs a gentle finger along the curve of her jaw and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 'Hmm.'

**********

'You seem so different,' Nick murmurs in Dean's ear as they dance pressed closely together. ''Where's the self-loathing, the inferiority complex, the daddy issues? It's like somebody switched on a light inside you. Why wasn't it me?' He nuzzles against Dean's face, pulling back just enough to claim his lips in a tender kiss. Butterflies erupt in Dean's stomach, but they're not the good kind- not the kind he used to get when Nick kissed him. Nick's words are echoing in his ears, and he doesn't know what they mean, why they feel like a stab in the gut.

Nick kisses him again, and he tells himself it's just nerves again. The plan is working, but this is a delicate stage- he needs to seal the deal. Luckily, Nick has a suggestion. 'Dean… I want you. God, I've never wanted anything so badly as I want you right now. Please say you'll have me.'

Without a word, Dean pulls away and takes Nick's hand to lead him back to the room.

They don't even bother turning on the light, flopping onto the bed together as they kiss frantically. 'Dean, god, please forgive me. I must have been insane,' Nick says between kisses. He starts to undo Dean's belt, and that's when reality smacks Dean in the face.

'Nick, stop.' Nick keeps kissing, fumbling with the buckle, so Dean shoves him hard. 'I said stop.'

'Ow! What?'

'Nick, why wasn't it you who turned on the light?'

'What?'

'The big shining Dean light that burns so bright now you just can't resist dumping your new fiancée for your old one?'

'What?'

Dean sighs. 'Twelve hours ago, all you wanted was Ruby.'

'Ruby? I… she's wonderful. Exciting. And... when I met her, I wasn't thinking. Sometimes you just do things. You don't think about them, you just need to do them, do what you're feeling. Maybe I was just... I was afraid. Afraid of where we were headed. You know? I was afraid of getting married.' He moves forward to kiss Dean again, but Dean pulls away.

'Nick… you weren't afraid of getting married to her.' Nick huffs a breath and sits back. 'You know, no matter what I might seem like tonight, it's still the same old me from yesterday you'd wind up with tomorrow. The same old me, the same old fuck-up with the daddy issues and the inferiority complex, who needs to be needed, and who wants to plant some roots and see them grow.'

'Do you want to be a farmer?' Nick asks, confused, and Dean shoots him a withering look. 'Sorry.'

'There's just one thing I don't want anymore.' Nick points to himself, and Dean nods. 'Sorry, Nick.'

**********

Ruby takes Benny's hand to lead him back to her room. They don't even bother turning on the light, flopping onto the bed together as they kiss frantically. Benny unzips the back of her dress and pushes it off her shoulders, sliding it down and following its path with his lips. When he reaches her feet, he pulls off the dress and her heels before climbing back up her body and flipping them over so she's on top. She doesn't even bother with his jacket or shirt, just goes immediately for his belt, and in a few quick seconds, his cock is in her small hands. _Too_ small, in fact. Even as she starts to stroke him, he can feel his erection wilting.

'Qu'est-ce qui se passe?' she asks with annoyance.

('What's going on?')

«C'est Dean,» Benny says as he pushes Ruby's hands away from him. «Je pense... merde. Je l'aime.'

('It's Dean. I think… shit. I love him.')

Ruby rolls her eyes, climbs off of Benny and flops onto her back. «Putain. Ce putain de Dean.»

('Fuck. Fucking Dean.')

«Je suis désolé. Tu es vraiment magnifique.»

('I'm sorry. You really are gorgeous.')

«Casse-toi.»

('Fuck off.')

Benny puts his hands up and swings his legs off the bed. Once he's presentable again, he starts to say something to Ruby, but she just stomps into the bathroom and slams the door. With a shrug, he leaves the room and heads out to the pool to sleep on one of the loungers. After all, his room is occupied tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm woman enough to admit that 'Like the tyres? Is it a drive-thru?' is one of my favourite jokes I've ever made in a fic. As Dean would say


	6. Chapter 5

Benny finds Dean in the dining room the next morning taking full advantage of the delicious breakfast. He looks relaxed and well-rested, but surprisingly, he's alone at the table.

'Mornin', chief. How'd it go last night?'

Dean barely pauses stuffing his face to reply. 'He wants to come back.'

'Congratulations.'

Dean shrugs. 'How about you. Part two go as planned?'

'Can't complain,' Benny says vaguely. 'So, uh, is Nick still in the room? Cause I could really do with a shower and change of clothes.'

'Oh, uh, no. He's not there. Go ahead.'

Benny nods and heads up to the room. There's not a trace of Nick or any of his stuff anywhere, but Benny figures that he wouldn't exactly have stopped in his old room to pick up his stuff if he had a ready and willing Dean in this one. Out of morbid curiosity, he looks in all the trash cans, but doesn't see any used condoms, so either they didn't use one or they didn't do anything they felt required one. The latter thought actually makes him feel better than he has all morning.

Once he's cleaned up, he picks up the watch from where Dean has left it on the nightstand. It really is beautiful, and with any luck, should net him somewhere around $100,000 to get his new grape cross made and begin the planting on the little plot of land he's managed to get in the Russian River Valley back in Cali. Strangely, the thought doesn't fill him with as much excitement as it usually does. Instead, he thinks of how great the watch had looked on Dean's wrist, how handsome Dean himself had looked in his suit, and how much that asshole Nick doesn't deserve him. Benny knows that if he were to get a real chance with Dean, he wouldn't fuck it up like that chinless weasel had done.

But it's too late to be thinking of that sentimental crap. Dean's taken, back with the man he flew across the ocean to get, and for all that Benny hates the thought of Nick having what he wants, he finds himself happy that Dean will be happy. And shit, if that ain't love, he doesn't know what is.

Dean returns to the room a couple of minutes later, looking as clean-cut all-American as he can get in his pink polo shirt and khaki pants and blazer. 'You ready?'

'Sure am, chief.' He hands Dean the watch, and Dean slips it into the inside pocket of his jacket. 'Cartier awaits.' It's just a short walk across the river, and most of the time is spent in an awkward silence. They had agreed that Benny will stay at a café a couple of blocks away while Dean makes the transaction, so they part ways a bit before the shop comes into view. Benny settles himself in on the café's terrace and waits.

Dean opens the door of the Cartier shop and is immediately ushered to the back, where Castiel is waiting for him. He extends a hand which Dean shakes unenthusiastically. 'Hello, Dean. Thank you for coming.'

'Sure,' he replies with equal blandness, and pulls the watch out of his jacket. 'Here you go.'

Castiel inspects it and verifies that the serial number matches the theft report. He nods and hands it to his assistant, who puts it in a box and carries it away, leaving Dean and Castiel alone.

'Are you sure you want to go through with the rest of this?' Castiel asks with concern.

'Yeah, man. I can't leave Benny high and dry. I know it wasn't right for him to steal that watch, but… I don't know. He's a good guy. He deserves to have his dreams come true.'

Castiel raises an eyebrow. 'And what about your dreams?'

'My dreams got fucked up a while ago.'

'Still, this is a lot of money- _your_ money. Surely you could start new dreams with,' he pauses to read the cashier's cheque he's holding, '$66,372.'

Dean just shrugs. 'It'll look like it's from Cartier, right?'

'Yes, it's all been done just as you suggested. Your bank transferred the money and Cartier issued the cheque this morning. The illusion is complete.'

'Thanks.' He reaches for the cheque, but Castiel pulls it back.

'Why are you doing this? You and Benny aren't together. You'll probably never see him again.'

Dean sighs and roughly runs a hand through his hair. 'I don't know. I just… have to.'

Castiel nods, the ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he holds out the cheque. 'Have a safe trip home, Dean.'

'Thanks, Cas.' He pockets the cheque and stands up. 'Hey, out of curiosity, how much is it actually worth?'

'Oh, about $110,000,' Castiel says calmly.

'Holy shit! Benny's gonna be pissed that he's only getting sixty-six.'

'Just tell him there were flaws in the diamonds,' Castiel suggests. 'Good luck.'

'Yeah. Thanks.' Dean gives Castiel a salute as he walks out of the back room, then hurries out of the shop and goes to find Benny at the café. Benny's smile when he sees him makes Dean heart stop. It makes him wish things could be different. But he pushed Benny away, made him help get Nick back- even though it turned out that Dean doesn't want Nick back after all- and even seduced Ruby to help things along. How can he now turn around and tell Benny he's changed his mind and wants him instead? It sounds crazy, completely stupid, and besides, Benny made it pretty clear that his main interest in Dean is physical. Dean can't bear the thought of being with Benny only to lose him again. He plasters a smile on his face and joins Benny at the table.

'Well? How'd it go?' Benny asks eagerly. Dean hands him the cheque and watches his face drop with a painful tightness in his chest. 'No, no, this should be much more. I knew I should've gone with you. They should've given you at least ninety grand!'

'They said the watch is great, but, uh… there was a flaw.'

'A flaw?'

'Some flaws. In the diamonds. They couldn't give the full original value because of the flaws.' Dean looks down at his hands folded in his lap. 'I'm sorry, Benny.'

Benny huffs out a sigh and puts a hand on Dean's shoulder. 'It's OK, cher. You did your best. It's not as much as I was hopin' for, but it's enough to get the cross-breeding done and get it sent back home. It'll take an extra couple of years before I can get it up to the scale I wanted, but… I'll get there.' He stands up and pulls Dean with him, wrapping him in a tight hug. 'Thank you, Dean. You're my angel of luck.'

Dean holds tightly for a moment, taking in a final deep breath of Benny's scent before pulling back. 'So, uh, I guess I should go. Nick's waiting for me.'

Benny looks downcast, but nods. 'Yeah, of course. It's been a pleasure, Dean. Once my vineyard is up and running, you guys ever want to come up, just let me know.'

'Sure, yeah,' Dean says with a wan smile. 'Good luck.' He waves, and in another moment is gone.

Benny contemplates the cheque for a while longer, until the mistiness of his eyes makes the number blur. Wiping them dry, he shoves the cheque in his pocket, leaves money for his coffee, and heads to the bank to deposit the cheque. It takes a little while because of the amount, but he manages to get back to the hotel before the check-out time. He decides to take one more walk along the river before catching a train back to Burgundy, and then finds a bench to soak up the sun for a few minutes. His reverie is disturbed by the sound of voices raised in anger, but what really makes his eyes fly open is that the voices are speaking English and are very familiar.

'You know I love you!' Nick shouts as Ruby shakes him off. 'Listen, I just had dinner with him because we had to-'

'I don't care! Why don't you go back to him?' Ruby spits back and stomps away from him.

'Ruby!' Nick grabs her arm and pulls her into a passionate kiss. After initially resisting, she eventually melts into him. Benny's jaw hangs open, and he's so stunned that he doesn't notice someone sitting next to him on the bench.

'Ah, love. There's nothing like it,' comes the gravelly sound of Castiel's voice.

Benny snorts. 'What're you doing here?'

'Interpol headquarters are in Lyon,' Castiel explains, 'and there was an issue with someone paying for his hotel room with a stolen credit card. I took care of it.'

Benny nods. 'That's nothing like love,' he says bitingly, inclining his head towards Nick and Ruby's excessive PDA.

'And you're an expert?' Castiel says sceptically. 'You know, if you like love stories, I know a very good one.'

'Oh yeah? Does it have a happy ending?'

'That I don't know. Maybe you can help with that.'

Benny looks taken aback. 'Me?'

Castiel nods. 'Imagine an airplane…'

**********

Dean's train arrives in Paris mid-afternoon, but he hasn't managed to get a flight back to San Francisco until the next day. It only occurs to him when he's standing outside Gare de Lyon that the only two hotels he knows in Paris are the George V and the fleabag place he stayed in with Benny, and he doesn't have a clue how to get to either of them. He turns around with the intention of asking for a recommendation at the station's information desk and walks right into someone.

'Shit, I'm sorry, I- Benny?' he asks, eyes wide with shock.

'Need to be more careful, cher,' Benny smirks. 'Where you off to in such a hurry?'

'Uh… I was gonna ask for help finding a hotel. My flight leaves tomorrow. Uh, I mean, our flight,' he quickly corrects himself. 'Nick is just-'

'Still in Lyon with Ruby, because you didn't want him back after all?' Benny finishes for him with a raised eyebrow.

Dean's shoulders sag. 'How did you know?'

'Saw them on my way to the train station. Also ran into my good buddy Cas, who told me a very interesting story.'

'Oh yeah?' Dean gulps nervously.

'Yeah.' Benny cups Dean's face with both hands and brushes a gentle kiss on his lips. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

'I didn't think you'd accept it, and even if you did, I didn't want you to feel like you owed me anything.'

'I owe you plenty, cher. But you're right, I can't just accept it like that.' Dean looks like he's about to argue, but Benny puts a finger to his lips. 'How does this sound? When we get back to San Fran, we're gonna get a lawyer to write up an investment agreement, nice and tidy, to protect both our rights. Then I'm gonna help ya pack up your stuff, and you're gonna come and stay at my place so you can look after your investment.'

'So just a business arrangement then?'

Benny wraps his arms around Dean's waist. 'Now, I didn't say that.'

Dean's lips quirk up, but he's not quite buying what Benny's selling just yet. 'So what are you offering, exactly?'

'Well, I'm thinkin' forty percent ownership of the vineyard,' Benny begins, kissing Dean again, 'fifty percent of my bed,' another kiss, 'and one hundred percent of my heart.'

Dean throws his head back and laughs before kissing Benny back. 'How long did it take you to think up that terrible line?'

'Totally off-the-cuff,' Benny grins, 'and you loved it.' He leans his forehead against Dean's.

'Damn right I did,' Dean agrees. 'And I love you, too.'

'I didn't sleep with Ruby,' Benny says instead of the expected reply.

'What?'

'I didn't sleep with Ruby. I couldn't. As soon as she touched me, I just…' He lifts his pointer finger straight up and then lets it droop. 'Because I realised that I wanted you. That I love you.' He looks sheepishly at Dean's surprised face. 'Just thought you should know.'

'Awesome,' Dean says warmly before pulling Benny in for another kiss. 'How 'bout we get a hotel and talk about all this some more much, much later?'

'Oh hell yeah,' Benny agrees, and directs Dean to a nearby hotel that's much better than the other place they'd stayed, but nothing like the George V or Villa Florentine.

'This is more my speed,' Dean says appreciatively. 'All that luxury stuff gets a bit too much after a while.' He drops his bags and pulls off his jacket and polo shirt. 'You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna fuck me?'

Benny licks his lips. 'I am definitely gonna fuck you.'

Dean quickly takes off his shoes and socks, then pulls down his underwear and pants together. 'Better come and get me then.'

Benny practically tears his own clothes off as he crosses the room, so he's also naked by the time he reaches Dean and wraps him in his arms. 'You're fuckin' perfect, and I'm gonna make you scream.'

'Oh yeah?' Dean replies in breathless challenge.

'Mmm hmm. But first I'm gonna make you squirm, and then I'm gonna make you beg.' He kisses Dean deeply while he grabs Dean's ass with both hands. 'There's so much I wanna do to ya, I barely know where to start.'

Dean grabs Benny's hand and wraps it around his dick. 'How about here?' he asks with a gasp as Benny immediately begins to stroke him.

'Mmm, that is a good spot,' Benny agrees. 'Think I'll take a closer look.' He drops to his knees and smirks up at Dean from the floor. 'Oh yeah. Looks real good from here.'

'So do you.' Benny's hair is cropped close, but Dean manages to grip a bit of it. Before Dean can open his mouth to make a smart-ass remark about whether Benny's just going to look at it all day, Benny opens _his_ mouth, and… well, Dean doesn't have anything to complain about all of a sudden. The dude has skills, can take him deeper than Nick ever could, and Dean's warning goes completely unheeded as Benny swallows his come with a pleased moan. Nick never liked to do _that_ either. 'Fuck.'

'Sorry, cher, I know that wasn't the plan, but I just couldn't get enough of ya,' Benny apologises as he stands up. Dean looks down and licks his lips as he finally gets a good look at Benny's dick- a good length, appealingly thick, and uncircumcised, which he's never seen before. He reaches out and gives it a tentative stroke.

'I think I'm about to know the feeling,' he jokes. 'You're not cut.'

'Yeah, it's not really done in France, so my mama refused to even consider it even though I was born in the States.' He grimaces a bit. 'Now if we could please change the subject so I'm not thinking about my mama right now, that'd be grand.'

Dean laughs and pushes Benny onto the bed. 'I think I can take your mind off it.' Benny scoots up so his back is against the headboard, and Dean settles between his legs. 'I'm so looking forward to getting this in me later, sweetheart. But for now…' He returns the favour with his mouth, enjoying the stretch of his lips as he sucks Benny off, thinking about the stretch he'll get from it later- yet another way that Benny is going to satisfy him like Nick never could. Soon Benny's thighs are trembling, and just as the first spurt hits Dean's tongue, he pulls off and closes his eyes, letting the rest land messily on his cheeks and lips. He's always loved that, but again, it was something that Nick didn't find appealing. Benny's sharp intake of breath and satisfied moan tell him that he's not the only one in the room with that kink, and it really sinks in how one time in bed with Benny has already made him more satisfied than two years with Nick.

'Ain't that a pretty sight?' Benny sighs when Dean opens his eyes and looks up at him through his lashes. 'I could get used to seeing you all flushed and covered in my come.' He reaches over to the box of tissues on the nightstand and gently wipes off the worst of it from Dean's face so he can go to the bathroom without making a mess. He washes his face properly and comes back, where Benny is under the covers and patting the side next him invitingly. Dean immediately cuddles up against him, sighing happily to be enclosed in those burly arms.

'So what's your plan now?' he asks as he traces meaningless patterns over Benny's chest with his fingertips.

'Head back to Burgundy, give Philippe my vine, fly home to get stuff ready. He'll ship over the final product and I can get to planting in a few months.'

'That's awesome.' He fidgets a little, squeezing Benny tightly.

'You OK, cher?'

'I'm not looking forward to my flight home tomorrow,' Dean admits.

'I think you shouldn't be flyin' anywhere tomorrow.'

Dean props his chin up on Benny's chest to look at him properly. 'I shouldn't?'

'Nope. In fact, I'm sure of it.'

'You are?'

'Yep. I think you should stay here with me until I can fly back with ya.'

Dean smiles broadly. 'Oh yeah?'

'Of course. How are you gonna make it through take-off if I'm not there to insult your taste in clothes and men?'

Dean smacks his chest with a laugh. 'Yeah, I do seem to like total assholes.'

Benny kisses the top of his head as he chuckles. 'Or maybe I can keep you distracted some other way.'

'As long as we don’t get kicked off the plane and arrested for lewd behaviour, sure.'

'So you'll stay?' Benny asks softly, more serious now.

'I'll stay.' Dean seals the promise with a sweet kiss, which grows into longer and deeper kisses, until eventually they're open-mouthed and frantic, rutting against each other as they both get hard again. 'Need you, Benny,' Dean pants against Benny's lips.

'Let me just get my bag, cher.' Benny slips out of bed and digs around in his bag until he finds lube and condoms. As he strides back with his cock bobbing and a predatory look on his face, Dean smiles appreciatively.

'You came prepared.'

'Obviously. I wasn't about to let a lack of supplies get in the way if I was lucky enough to sweet talk you into this.'

'Consider me sweet-talked.' Dean rolls onto his stomach and wiggles his ass invitingly. 'I've been fantasising about those fingers for a while.'

'Oh yeah?' Benny climbs back onto the bed and settles himself next to Dean. Slicking up his fingers, he starts with the first, gently circling Dean's rim.

'I'm not a blushing virgin, Benny. Gimme.'

'All right, all right. Can't say I'm not feelin' a bit impatient myself,' Benny admits, and slips the finger inside. Dean moans, his skin already flushing with arousal, and before long a second finger is added to the first. After the third, Dean starts thrusting back onto Benny's hand in earnest.

'I'm ready, come on,' he says eagerly.

'What's the magic word?' Benny teases as he strokes Dean's prostate.

'Please! God, please, Benny, fuck me!'

After pulling his fingers out and wiping them on a tissue, Benny rolls on a condom, adds more lube, and flips Dean onto his back. 'That's squirming and begging done. Now to make you scream.'

Dean revels in the stretch and burn as Benny's thick cock slides inside slowly. He can tell that Benny is doing everything in his power not to just slam right into the inviting heat before he's ready. Once he's fully sheathed, it still takes Dean a minute to adjust, but he's loving every second. He wraps his legs around Benny's waist and finally gives him a nod when he's ready. Benny begins slowly, just undulating his hips slightly as he kisses Dean with exceptional tenderness.

'Benny… ah… fuck, so good,' Dean babbles.

'Love ya, cher. Love you so much. Didn't know it was possible so fast,' Benny murmurs.

'Love you, too. Ah!' Dean cries out as Benny finds a perfect angle to hit his prostate.

'You like that, darlin'? I like it too.' He moves faster now, but still staying close enough to kiss Dean throughout. Dean grabs at the headboard for purchase, but Benny pries his fingers loose and intertwines them with his own above Dean's shoulders. It's intimate and loving, and Dean can't remember the last time he felt so damn good.

Eventually, Benny frees Dean's hands and sits back to grab his thighs instead. In this position, he can start fucking Dean harder, bringing Dean's legs up to drape over his elbows as he thrusts in and out with increasing vigour. Their moans get louder, their breathing speeds up, and the sweat begins to glisten on their skin as the pressure builds.

'Benny… need to touch…' Dean gasps.

'Go ahead, cher. Lemme see you touch yourself.' Dean doesn't need to be told twice; he grips his cock and begins to stroke it rapidly, desperate to come. He cries out loudly when he finally reaches his peak, and when the spasms finally stop, Benny pulls out and removes the condom, quickly stroking himself over Dean's stomach to add his own come to the cooling mess.

Both finally spent, they lie there breathing heavily for a while, letting their heart rates settle. Dean wipes himself clean with the tissues and hands a couple to Benny as well. Once they're well enough tidied up, Benny takes Dean in his arms again.

'Well that was somethin' else,' he says cheerfully. 'Hope I wasn't too rough with you.'

'It was awesome. I'm gonna be sore tomorrow, but in a good way.' Dean sighs contentedly, then sits up suddenly. 'Shit! I gotta change my flight.' He jumps out of bed and finds his phone. As he connects to the hotel wifi, he asks Benny for his flight details, and he begrudgingly gets up to find his own phone with the information. Dean calls the airline and manages to get the flight changed for not too exorbitant a price, which he plans to pay for by selling some of Nick's crap anyway. 'I should probably call Sam, too. He'll need to know when I'm getting back.'

'OK, how 'bout I go take a shower while you do that, then you can take one, and we'll go out for dinner after?' He kisses Dean once more and heads for the bathroom. Dean puts on a shirt to avoid traumatising Sam and calls him on FaceTime.

'Dean! How are you?'

'I'm doin' pretty damn well, Sammy. Sent you a postcard like you asked.'

Sam frowns. 'Does that mean you got Nick back?'

'Nope! Told that sucker to shove it. He wanted to come back, but by the time I got to him, I realised he wasn't what I wanted.' He gives an abbreviated version of the Nick story, and when he's done, Sam is smiling.

'Thank god for that. Did you at least punch him in the dick?'

Dean laughs. 'Nah. He's not even worth the effort.'

'So where are you now? When are you coming home?'

Dean fidgets a bit, because he's not sure exactly how well Sam is going to take the next part. 'I'm in Paris right now, but I'm gonna head back to Burgundy for a few days with Benny before we fly home.'

And there's the bitchface. 'Is that the kind of "we" it sounds like?'

'Yeah, it is, and before you say anything about moving too fast or whatever shit, you need to know that Benny is awesome. I've been happier with him in the last few days than I was for months with Nick.' Dean catches movement out of the corner of his eye and sees Benny leaning against the doorframe in only a towel, arms crossed and a fond smile on his face. He smiles back with what he suspects is a very similar expression. 'He's the one.'

'Huh.'

Dean looks back at Sam. 'What?'

'I've never seen your face do that before. Even with Nick.'

'Yeah, well, that's love for ya.'

Sam's eyes look like they're going to bug out of his head. 'Love? Dude, are you serious?'

'Deadly serious. Look, I'll tell you all about it when I get home. I'll email you my flight details, OK?'

'Yeah, OK. Just… I don't know, be careful, enjoy the rest of your trip, I guess. And tell Benny that if anything happens to you… well, I didn't get to dick-punch Nick, so I've got one saved up.'

'Will do, Sammy. See ya.' He hangs up and looks up to see Benny still smiling at him. 'What?'

'Nothin'. Just enjoying the view.' He walks towards the bed, tossing the towel aside on the way. 'You know, this place does room service.' When he gets to Dean, he tugs at the t-shirt, and Dean lets him pull it off.

'Room service does sound good. We should probably do that.' Benny hums, already distracted by Dean's bare skin again. Dean pulls aside the sheet so Benny can climb into bed, and it's not long before they're both completely distracted.

Luckily, room service is available twenty-four hours.


	7. Epilogue

_Five years later_

'Benny, would you calm the fuck down? Everything is perfect!' Dean shouts, grabbing Benny by both shoulders and leaning their foreheads together. 'You can't enjoy your moment of triumph if you stroke out.'

'What if people don't like it? We won't sell anything, and we'll lose all our money and have to live in my camper.' Benny wrings his hands nervously, looking around the converted barn for the hundredth time. The long wooden tables are covered in plates and wine glasses waiting to be filled with Madame Lafitte's Burgundian recipes and the very first bottling of Domaine Lafitte's specialty wine.

'Dude, your wine kicks ass, and we're gonna sell out in no time. The food is awesome, you're awesome, and tonight is gonna be awesome.'

Benny takes a deep breath and nods. 'You're right. What would I do without you, cher?'

'Crash and burn,' Dean replies, and Benny shushes him with a kiss. 'Seriously, you good?'

'Never better.' He gives Dean one more kiss before stepping back to straighten his bowtie. 'You ready?'

'I'm ready.'

'OK then. Guess we should open the door.' With another deep breath, Benny steps up to the main door and opens it to reveal a line of people waiting outside. 'Good evening, everyone, and thank you for joining us at the gala opening of Domaine Lafitte!' The crowd cheers, and that puts a wider smile on Benny's face. 'My partner and I have been working around the clock to get this shindig ready, so please come in and enjoy!'

The crowd file in and find their seats, and soon the room is buzzing, with waiters bringing food to the tables and filling wine glasses as people chat. Dean and Benny sit at the head table with Benny's parents, who had flown over specially for the occasion, and Sam. They're enjoying dessert when a waiter approaches their table holding a tray of champagne flutes. Benny frowns, because he had made a point of only serving wine made on their vineyard, and they don't make any bubbly.

'What's goin' on?' he whispers to Dean.

'It's not a real celebration without champagne,' Dean says, 'or in this case, crémant de Bourgogne that your folks brought over.' The waiter distributes the flutes, leaving Benny's for last and winking at Dean before walking away. 'Here's to you, Benny.' He raises his glass, and the rest of the table echoes his toast.

Benny grins and picks up his glass, his winemaker's instinct making him raise it up for inspection… and that's when he sees the ring at the bottom. He turns to look at Dean, awestruck, and finds him much lower than he'd expected- on one knee beside him, looking nervous but hopeful. Benny's smile gets broader, and he downs the sparkling wine in a few long gulps to get the ring out. 'I think you'll need this,' he says to Dean as he passes it over.

Dean holds the ring up, his hand trembling slightly. 'Getting engaged didn't work out so well for me the last time I tried it, but now I know I've got the right person. Will you marry me, Benny?'

'You're goddamn right I'll marry you,' Benny says enthusiastically, lifting Dean up onto his lap and kissing him in a way that perhaps isn't appropriate in front of their dozens of guests. Luckily, they don't seem to mind, clapping and cheering as Dean finally gets the chance to slip the ring on Benny's finger. 'Mmm, the things I am gonna do to you tonight,' he whispers promisingly in Dean's ear.

'Oh yeah? Want me to wear anything special?' Dean asks, thinking of the pair of satiny pink panties he had recently bought from a website specialising in men's lingerie. Benny nods and nuzzles closer.

'You still got that pink polo shirt?'


End file.
